Meet Blaine
by heavenhelpmyheart
Summary: A prequel to my story Meet the Warblers. How Blaine and Kurt's relationship progressed from the moment they met up to the day Kurt transfers to Dalton.
1. Teenage Dream

**A/N: My major story (Meet the Warblers) is trying to kill my muse by throwing off a cliff. As such, I have decided to write this prequel to Meet the Warblers, from Never Been Kissed to Special Education (right where the story starts). To all my Meet the Warblers readers, I hope you're not too angry with me for writing this instead of Meet the Warblers. To all my new readers, hi! *waves* You can read this story alone (obviously), but you should go check out Meet the Warblers if you like this! Read on.**

* * *

><p>Kurt Hummel was having a great morning. His outfit was fabulous, no one had picked on him, and he was walking along the hallway with Tina, for once not flinching at the corner. Mercedes had informed him that no one had seen Karofsky that morning. Apparently, even Philistines took sick days.<p>

"I take it we have a lot of sweater trains to look forward to this season," Tina commented, and Kurt smiled. Yes, he knew his outfit was amazing and ahead of the trends.

And **slam!** Face forward into the lockers, catching his face on his hands just in time. That would be an excellent way to make his perfectly formed nose look like Rachel's. Karofsky shoved past Tina in the space he had created by shoving Kurt. Mercedes needed to get better sources.

"Are you okay?" Tina asked quietly, obviously concerned. While he would have a bruise on his stomach from where it hit the edge of the half-open locker, he would be alright.

"Yeah, fine," he replied, trying to get the breath Karofsky had knocked out of his lungs back. Taking Tina's arm, they continued on their way to lunchtime Glee.

Naturally, because Karofsky was a moron, Kurt and Tina were late for Glee. Not that Mr. Schuester would make a big deal out of it, but Rachel would attempt to verbally tear him limb-from-limb later.

"Alright, guys, let's get down to business," Mr. Schue addressed the club as the two sat down. "First, let's welcome back Noah Puckerman." Joy. Despite his annoyance, everyone around him clapped. They had needed his voice, whether his presence was preferable or not. "Puck, I hope your time in Juvie has taught you a lesson or two about right and wrong."

"Are you kidding me?" Clearly, his massive ego had returned with him. Kurt almost felt bad for harboring the hope that it had been beat out of him. "I ruled that place. All I did was crack skulls and lift weights all day."

"Wow, what a catch. Can't believe I ever let you go." Quinn could be a bitch sometimes, but only when it was really necessary. Kurt had to love her for that comment.

"And now, drum roll, Finn." Like Finn was the only one who could keep a beat. It would be different if he was actually at the drum set. Nevertheless, Finn pounded on a (probably unopened) text book, and Mr. Schue could make his big announcement. "Because I have in my hand our competition for Sectionals next month." Rachel was the only one who looked worried.

"First, the a cappella choir from the all-boys private school in Westerville, the Dalton Academy Warblers." An all-boys Catholic school. Sounds like Kurt's own personal brand of hell.

"Okay, hold up, like a million awesome gay jokes just popped into my head," Santana commented with a look at Kurt. What supportive friends he had. Like going to an all-boys school would make people any more accepting.

"And the other team to beat... the Hipsters, a first-year club from the Warren Township continuing education program. Now, they are a glee club composed entirely of elderly people getting their high school GEDs." Well, that was nothing to worry about.

"Is that legal?" Why wouldn't it be, Streisand?

"How are we supposed to compete against a bunch of adorable old people?" Mercedes asked, and Kurt almost rolled his eyes at his best girl, a habit that would gain him yet another bruise.

"Are you kidding? Brittle bones. Give one of those old ladies a good luck pat on the rear it'll shatter her pelvis." Puck's hyperbole (not that he would know what that word meant) _was_ funny, not that Kurt would ever tell him that.

"Moving on. Since it seemed to get you guys jazzed about Sectionals last year, I want to make this week our second annual boys vs. girls tournament." This could be fun, if only Mr. Schue took him out of the category in which he actually belonged (not that 90% of the people in the school believed that), and put him in the one where he had _friends_. "So, split up into two groups, and... figure out what songs you're gonna sing."

Now... maybe Mr. Schue wouldn't notice if... "Kurt, I'm gonna say it again. Boys' team." Damn. Kurt went over to sit awkwardly in the middle of the chattering boys. It was one of the only places that he didn't know every lyric of every song mentioned by heart.

* * *

><p>Kurt strutted past Puck pushing Artie. Oddly, Artie was smiling, so Kurt didn't feel the need to intervene (normally Puck would be pushing Artie down the stairs. Glee club hadn't done much to bring the polar opposites together). Smiling confidently, Kurt was unprepared for the hands on his arm slamming his back into the lockers.<p>

"What is your problem?" Crap, did that come out of his mouth? Kurt's temper really would get the better of him someday.

"You talking back to me? You want a piece of The Fury?" What the hell? Kurt's confusing and irritation once again steam rolled over his common sense.

"'The Fury'?" he asked, dumbly.

"That's what I named my fist." _Play it cool, Kurt, say something he won't understand and he'll leave you alone._

"Well, with that level of creativity, you could easily become assistant manager at a rendering plant." Perfect comment.

"I don't know what that is," I know, "but if I find out it's bad, The Fury's gonna find you." With one last slam of Kurt's abused back into the lockers, Karofsky walked away. Kurt sighed, keeping his eyes closed and leaning his head back. Gaga, his back hurt.

* * *

><p>"Is there anything that I could do?" Strong coffee instead of water, for one, and a very large ice pack for his poor, aching back.<p>

After a long pause, Kurt answered his teacher. "No. It's my hill to climb alone."

"Can I be honest?" As long as he got to be honest as well. 'Your vests are atrocious, your song and soloist selection are narrow and favoritist, and though you are probably the least judgmental teacher at this school, you still treat me differently than everyone else,' Kurt thought, but he only raised his eyebrows, taking a sip of his water. "I think it's getting to you." No, really? "Usually, this stuff rolls right off your," poor, abused, aching "back, but, lately, you've been belligerent, angry, pushing people away."

"Can I be honest with you?" Mr. Schuester nodded. "You, like everyone else at this school, are too quick to let homophobia slide. And your lesson plans are boring and repetitive." Might as well get one of his true thoughts in there. "Boys vs. Girls? That doesn't challenge any of us."

"You mean because I didn't let you join the girls like you wanted?" Perhaps. Maybe he just wanted _one_ thing in his life to be the way he wanted. Mr. Schuester apparently couldn't, or wouldn't, help him the way he needed.

"To answer your question, yes, I'm unhappy. And yes, being the only out gay kid at this school gets me down. But, most of all, I'm not challenged in the least here." That was true. McKinley academics were sub-par, and their extra-curriculars were too under-funded to be completely worth-while. Maybe that would get Mr. Schuester thinking.

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><p>"Look, I'm not tossing the baby out with the bath water here," Mr. Schuester began at afternoon rehearsal, and Kurt couldn't decide whether his stomach dropped or his heart leaped.<p>

"I've totally done that," Brittany added from her traditional seat next to Santana, and Mr. Schuester paused for a moment. Kurt made a mental note to explain the saying to her, as well as to comment on Mercedes' fabulous necklace.

"We're just making an adjustment." Nothing good would ever come out of those words. "Boys, you are now doing songs traditionally sung by girl groups." Yes! Maybe he was too much of a cynic when he came to Mr. Schue's ridiculous traditions and favoritism. This would be amazing! "And girls, try some classic rock. Uh, the Who, the Stones. The more opposite your choice, the more points you get." This could possibly be the best idea Mr. Schuester's limited Lima brain had come up with.

"Don't worry gentleman. I have this one under control," Kurt muttered to the other boys. To be fair, they did all lean in to listen to him. Now, he just needed to draw it out for them.

* * *

><p>Kurt eagerly pasted the pictures onto his presentation board. While Mr. Schue's assignment wasn't the opposite of what <em>he<em> normally did, he could definitely help the boys get in touch with their feminine sides.

"What're you doin', kiddo?" his dad asked form the couch, eating his heart-health fruit salad with cranberry poppy seed dressing.

"Working on my Glee assignment. Well, _our_ Glee assignment, but I've taken over control," Kurt replied smugly, adding a picture of himself to the center. Working on the mash-up was a well-needed break from worrying about... well, everything.

"What's the assignment?" His dad really was trying to get more involved in Kurt's life. Apparently, he felt bad about the heart attack and what had happened with Finn, so he was trying to get closer to his song. It was working, to a point.

"It's the second annual boys vs. girls mash-up competition," Kurt answered, planning out the songs as he worked.

"And, uh, you're on.." Kurt smiled, though his dad couldn't see it. Dad knew him so well.

"I'm on the boys' team, not for lack of trying. Luckily, the assignment is to do the opposite of what we normally do, which is classic rock or rap, in leather." And... done.

"What are you having them do?" Kurt recognized the wary tone of his dad's voice. it was the same tone he used whenever he brought Finn up.

"Something classic by female artists. Not 'gay' enough to make their masculinity feel threatened, "Kurt rolled his eyes, "but it will definitely be better then whatever Rachel comes up with."

"You sure it's a good idea to boss the boys into a girl number?" Kurt sighed. His dad really was trying.

"First of all, it's not a 'girly' numbers. Second, boys are completely driven by testosterone, which means their overall goal is to win, and the more opposite the performance is, the more points we get," Kurt explained, putting away his glue and magazines.

"Just checkin', kiddo. You know how guys can get." Kurt sighed again. After coming so close to losing his father, he understood better why his dad was so protective. That didn't mean it couldn't be annoying.

"Yeah, I do," Kurt said with a patient smile, flipping his boards over. "Goodnight, dad." He walked over to kiss his dad goodnight before heading into his sanctuary.

"Goodnight, son." Burt waited until his son was downstairs for a few minutes to check on his designs. Walking over to the kitchen table where Kurt had been working (and dumping away the rest of that 'heart healthy' crap as he did), he looked through Kurt's work. Oh boy, this wouldn't end well.

* * *

><p>Setting up his presentation (mentally thanking the nice-if-eccentric art teacher that had lent him the easels) and humming the mash-up to himself, Kurt mentally ran through his speech. The boys <em>would<em> like his idea, he knew it. And he would certainly have his almost-step-brother on his side, right?

The boys all walked in with identical expressions of skepticism. Kurt nervously wrung his hands, knowing that they wouldn't notice. Puck, of course, arrived late and threw off Kurt's whole time system, making him mentally curse the moment Mrs. Puckerman decided she wanted children.

"Alright then, _Puckerman_," Kurt said with a glare, and began his speech, smacking his main board with his pointer. "Now, obviously for this medley to work, I'm gonna have to sing lead, and, of course, when you're singing Diana Ross, Bob Mackey-esque Maribou feather boas are a must."

"Isn't this lesson about opposites?" And he was being interrupted already. "I mean, you in a sequined gown and a feather boa is exactly what you'd expect," Artie said with a shrug. He earned points for having something to write notes on (so did Mike, but he was probably doodling).

"Okay, who said anything about a gown?" He wasn't a _girl_! If he was, he wouldn't be in this room!

"Uh, dude, why don't you make yourself useful and put some rat poison in them old folks' Jello or visit the Garglers," Puck said, obviously trying to take control of the situation. Whether it was in support of Artie (what an odd friendship that was), or because he was just arrogant, it didn't matter.

"The Warblers," he corrected. As he saw it, he was standing at the front of the room with the pointer, he had the power. All the Neanderthal had was a football.

"Whatever." Witty comeback. "See what they're up to, and you can wear all the feathers you want," Kurt steamed as he tossed the football to Finn, who hadn't said _anything_, "you'll blend right in."

Kurt could feel the blood rising in his face. After a long moment, he said "Fine" picked up the board that he had worked _so hard_ on and left. Nobody tried to call him back, and his face burned even brighter.

'_Make yourself useful... visit the Garglers..._' Puck's jeering words rang in Kurt's head as he stormed home, crushing the board and tossing it in the nearest trash can. Screw the trouble he would get in for skipping US History. Maybe it would be nice to go somewhere he was actually appreciated, instead of constantly mocked and tormented.

Dalton Academy seemed to be an _extremely_ nice school. Thankfully, the first thing he saw on the web site was pictures of boys (_cute_ boys, he thought before pushing the idea away. Life wasn't that nice to him) in their _uniforms_. There had to be some way he could replicate it.

Scribbling down the address for his GPS, Kurt immediately went to his closet. Black jacket (no Dalton crest, but hopefully nobody would notice), red tie (hidden enough by the jacket), white shirt, and Black pants (not baggy enough, but they would have to do). The 'uniform' wasn't perfect, but Kurt had a feeling it wouldn't matter. And he added stylish sunglasses (ignoring that it was late October), just because he could.

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><p>He was correct. Dalton Academy was amazing and classy. It gave off the air of having an immaculate history and every surface he had seen was covered in wood. In hindsight, visiting the school without any kind of layout or plan was a dumb idea. So, Kurt just followed the tide. For some reason, all the boys seemed to be rushing in one direction. Following the stream of uniforms down a beautiful stair case with wrought-iron railings and a artistic skylight, Kurt took his sunglasses off his nose, talking to the first boy he saw.<p>

"Excuse me, um, hi, can I ask you a question? I'm new here." The boy's eyes scanned up and down his body before offering him a hand to shake.

"My name's Blaine," he offered shortly.

"Kurt," he replied, slightly breathless (absurdly). _Blaine_ was clearly studying his (obviously fake) uniform. Now, Kurt was slightly nervous.

"So, what exactly is going on?" Now Blaine's face lit up with animation.

"The Warblers! Every now and then they throw an impromptu performance in the senior commons. It tends to shut the school down for a while." Wait, what? In McKinley, the only reason this many students would converge was if Jacob Ben Israel's head was being shaved and he was hoisted up the flagpole by his Ninja Turtle underwear.

"So, wait, the Glee Club here is kind of cool?" Miracles do happen.

"The Warblers are like rock stars." Kurt couldn't help but raise his eyebrows. Seemed too good to be true. "Come on," Blaine said with a smile, grabbing his hand, "I know a short-cut."

The moment felt like a scene from a Lifetime movie: running down a deserted hallway, hand-in-hand. Blaine was _gorgeous_ and, ignoring the fact that he probably wasn't gay, it was actually very romantic (also ignoring the fact that Blaine had grabbed the wrong hand and was currently trying to dislocate his shoulder). All too soon, the short-cut was over, and they came to big wooden doors.

Blaine pushed the doors open, and the room behind them was _swarming_ with boys moving furniture. The uniform, it seemed, had different variations, and Kurt mentally cursed not looking around the web site more. He could have duplicated the red sweater look easily.

"Oh, I stick out like a sore thumb," Kurt said, still feeling nervous about his plan (or lack thereof).

"Well, next time, don't forget your jacket, new kid," Blaine said with a grin, reaching forward to fix Kurt's jacket and making his breath catch. "You'll fit right in. Now, if you'll excuse me," he added, discarding his messenger bag. Then the music started, and Kurt realized Blaine was the Warblers' _lead soloist_. He seemed more like a groupie, the way he talked.

_Before you met me, I was alright,  
>but things were kinda heavy,<br>you brought me to life.  
>Now, every February,<br>you'll be my Valentine... Valentine._

The Warblers, he would admit, were _good_, but all he could focus on was _Blaine_, and the little heart he was making. Blaine sang the last line of the verse directly to Kurt with a little nod, and Kurt could feel himself melting. _Not again_.

_Let's go all the way tonight,  
>no regrets, just love.<br>We can dance until we die,  
>you and I will be young forever.<em>

Students were snapping and bopping along to the music, and it was incredible and slightly unnerving, but Kurt _could not_ take his eyes off of Blaine, who looked at him (he was sure) more then he looked at anyone else in the room. It was probably a coincidence, making the 'new kid' feel more comfortable, but it still enchanted Kurt.

_You make me feel like I'm livin' a  
>teenage dream, the way you turn me on.<br>I can't sleep, let's run away  
>and don't ever look back... don't ever look back.<em>

Kurt's heart jumped straight out of his throat when Blaine pointed to him on the first line. They all pointed absentmindedly into the audience, but Blaine was looking at him too. The whole room seemed more animated as they went into the chorus.

_Let's go all the way tonight,  
>no regrets, just love.<br>We can dance until we die,  
>you and I will be young forever.<em>

_You make me feel like I'm livin' a  
>teenage dream, the way you turn me on.<br>I can't sleep, let's run away  
>and don't ever look back... don't ever look back.<em>

The same thing happened (both with the students and Blaine) as they repeated the chorus. It was honestly like a crazy dream, a beautiful boy was serenading him and people (boys, no less) were actually supporting a Glee Club.

_Imma get your heart racing  
>in my skin-tight jeans<br>Be your teenage dream tonight!_

_Yeah!  
>You make me feel like I'm livin' a<br>teenage dream, the way you turn me on.  
>I can't sleep, let's run away<br>and don't ever look back.. don't ever look back  
><em>

_My heart stops when you look at me  
>Just one touch, now baby I believe<br>this is real, so take a chance  
>and don't ever look back.. don't ever look back<em>

_Imma get your heart racing  
>in my skin-tight jeans<br>Be your teenage dream tonight!  
>Let you put your hands on me<br>in my skin-tight jeans  
>be your teenage dream tonight!<em>

Not only were their harmonies amazing (because they definitely _were_), but the entire performance wasn't focused around or dependent on Blaine (like it would be if it was Rachel). Kurt wondered for a moment where their director was, but found that he couldn't care less.

Everyone clapped, cheered, and offered their congratulations when they finished. Blaine gave him a little wink as he accepted the praise he was being given. After most of the Dalton students had wandered out of the commons (the Warblers stayed), Blaine wandered over to Kurt.

"Wow," Kurt commented honestly. Blaine's voice was amazing, the dancing was uniform (if simple), not many a cappella choirs do that well, and the other students had loved them. They really _were_ rock stars.

"Thanks," Blaine said with a smile, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "All classes are canceled for the rest of the day, in case you didn't get the text. So, tell me about yourself." What was he, the wonderful welcoming committee? Kurt tried to ignore how odd it was that Blaine seemed completely comfortable touching him.

"Kurt Hummel, diva extraordinare, ex-football player and cheerleader, need I go on?" Kurt said with a slightly smug grin. Say what you want about him, but he had an interesting past.

"Kurt Hummel... hmm. I think I like 'new kid' better," Blaine grinned. "Too bad you're not one." Kurt could _feel_ the color drain out of his face, making Blaine laugh. "It's alright. Now, who are you?"

"I go to McKinley High," was a dumb thing to say, but Blaine seemed to understand.

"A spy, huh?" Kurt went to deny it, but Blaine just smiled. "It's alright," he motioned to two other boys to come over. "How about coffee?" he asked the three who all nodded. "First," he addressed Kurt with a grin, "you need to chance, because you look _ridiculous_." Kurt blushed and the other two looked at Blaine, confused.

* * *

><p>Luckily, Kurt had an extra set of clothes in my car (a habit that came with getting slushied on a regular basis). When he came back in, Blaine led him to what seemed to be a cafeteria or study area with tables. Kurt sat down in the only available chair at the table, the rest of the area was deserted, with a few students floating around in the other part of the room. The school really had shut down.<p>

"Latte?" Blaine asked, sliding over the coffee. Kurt murmured 'thank you' barely forming the words. He was sitting at one side of the table, and the three Dalton boys were sitting on the other, making it feel a lot like an interrogation.

"This is Wes and David," Blaine gave no indication as to which was which.

"It's very civilized for you to invite me for coffee before you beat me up for spying." The comment was meant as a joke, but it didn't seem to go over well.

"We are _not_ going to beat you up," the boy on Blaine's right (who, he would guess was Wes) said firmly.

"You were such a terrible spy, we thought it was sort of endearing." David seemed more easy-going, and Blaine was obviously comfortable around the two, sipping his medium drip.

"Which made me think that spying on us wasn't really the reason you came." Blaine could read his mind, obviously, that was the only explanation. Before Kurt went and made a complete fool of himself out of this completely unattainable guy, he had to ask.

"Can I ask you guys a question?" They seemed nice enough, but so would people like Karofsky to the untrained (or un-bruised) eye. "A-Are you guys all gay?" The three started laughing, which was a good sign that he _wasn't_ about to be punched.

"Uh, uh, no, I mean, I am, but these two have girlfriends." _I'm sorry. Could you repeat that? For once, I'm actually interested in a gay guy. I thought miracles were supposed to come closer to Christmas._

"This is not a gay school," Puck would object, "we just have a zero-tolerance harassment policy." Kurt almost choked on his coffee. Dalton really was too good to be true. A zero-tolerance harassment policy, a popular glee club, prized academics, and an exceedingly gorgeous, talented gay boy who Kurt knew. Kurt resisted the urge to pinch himself.

"Everybody gets treated the same, no matter what they are. It's pretty simple," Wes said with a shrug, and he was _so wrong_. It was about the farthest from simple he could think of. In a world that seemed to completely hate him and was determined to make him miserable in every possible way, there was actually somewhere he could be 'just one of the guys'? it was overwhelming, and Kurt's incredible self-control was the only thing keeping him from gaping like an idiot, though he must have been staring for a while, because Blaine's expression became sympathetic.

"Would you guys excuse us?" Blaine asked.

"Take it easy, Kurt," Wes said with a smile, and the two boys left with their coffees, just like that. Obviously, Blaine was some sort of leader among the Warblers.

"I take it you're having trouble with school," Blaine said calmly, but not unkindly.

"I'm the only out of the closet person in my school, and-and I tried to stay strong about it, but there's this Neanderthal who's made it his mission to make my life a living hell... and nobody seems to notice." Kurt's eyes were welling up and he was fighting back tears while he spoke.

"I know how you feel," Blaine said, just as calmly as before. "I got taunted at my old school, and it really... pissed me off," Blaine censored with a (cute) little grimace. "I even complained about it to the faculty, and they were sympathetic and all, but you could just tell that nobody really cared." It's like Blaine was telling the story of what had happened in Mr. Schue's office just the other day. "I-it was like, 'hey, if you're gay, your life's just gonna be miserable. Sorry, nothing we can do about it.'" His friends, even his dad sometimes, seemed to be saying the exact same thing with their eyes, and it _hurt_ like nothing else. "So I left, I came here, simple as that. So, you have two options. I mean, I'd love to tell you to come enroll here, but tuition at Dalton is sort of steep, and I... I know that's not an option for everybody. Or... you can refuse to be the victim. Prejudice is just ignorance, Kurt, and you have a chance right now to teach him." It didn't seem possible, but was there anything this boy didn't know? He was like Kurt's perfect guardian angel at the moment.

"How?" Karofsky was so ignorant, even teachers couldn't teach him.

"Confront him." Even the words seemed daunting. Clearly, Blaine didn't realize that Karofsky was very capable of snapping Kurt in half. He liked option one better, but Blaine was probably right. "Call him out. I ran, Kurt, I didn't stand up. I let bullies chase me away, and it is something that I really, really regret." Blaine stood up to leave, and Kurt followed him.

"Thank you," Kurt said, for all of this. It's nice to have someone who's been through something similar, who knows what I'm going through." What was the appropriate reaction when someone you met _that day_ bares their soul to you?

"I wish I had someone like that," Blaine admits. "It's difficult to go through something like this alone." Kurt nodded. His friends may support him sometimes, but recently he had felt... _invisible_. "It'll always be here for you, Kurt, rain or shine or... hurricane. I don't care if you call me at two A.M. in the middle of a tornado, I'll be there as soon as I can, alright?" Kurt could only nod, afraid he would get too emotional (again) if he said anything. "Come here."

Blaine pulled Kurt into a hug, too long to be friendly, too short to be romantic. Confusing length aside, Blaine's arms were safe and warm and Kurt sincerely appreciated the gesture.

"I... I should get home. I skipped the last part of school and my dad will be worried," Kurt said once Blaine let him go.

"Alright," Blaine said with a smile. Whipping a pen out of his pocket, he scribbled something on Kurt's hand. "Call me later?" Kurt smiled.

"I will. Bye, Blaine."

"Toodles," he said in a falsetto with a little wave, walking away, and Kurt couldn't help but giggle.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, medium-sized chapter. Lots of canon scenes in this one, there will be more original scenes in the next. This story shouldn't be very long (six or seven chapters), and I promise to update quickly! The next chapter is already about 2,000 words, so stay tuned! You should all go click that review button. *nods***

**Song used: **_'Teenage Dream'_ by Katy Perry**, in case you couldn't figure that out.**

**Reviews make me write faster! :)**


	2. Horror

**A/N: Dearest readers, I did not put a 555 number because I find them annoying. However, that is a random number I made up. If you call it, you may find a very angry, large man on the other end of the line, I have no idea. So, I suggest you don't call it. Read on!**

**For the musical number:  
><strong>_Italics_ is Rachel  
><strong>Bold<strong> is Mercedes  
><strong><em>Bold Italics<em>** is All Gils

* * *

><p><em><strong>782-4329 :)<strong>_

Kurt looked once again at what Blaine had scribbled on his hand. There was nothing special about it (except the smiley face), but it was practically an offer to become close friends. He glanced over at his iPhone. Blaine had said to call...

His dad hadn't been angry about him skipping out of school after lunch. The look he had given his son suggested he had suspected teasing would be the result of his attempts to control the mash-up. However, he had been _very_ angry to discover that Kurt had driven to a school two hours away without his permission. Kurt hadn't dared to tell him that he had met a guy there. Burt wasn't ready to have that conversation anyway.

Gathering his nerve, he typed Blaine's number into his phone and hit 'send.' Blaine answered after two rings and Kurt could practically hear the grin in his voice. "So, this is either A), an annoying telemarketer, B) a wrong number, or C) our endearing spy. Considering you, person on the other end of the line, didn't start talking over me, if this were a game show and there was a million dollars on the line, I'd pick 'C'." Kurt giggled.

"Hi, Blaine," Kurt said, quickly getting up to lock his door. It wouldn't be good if his dad came down to apologize for their fight and found Kurt talking on the phone with a gay guy he didn't know.

"Ding ding ding! I win!" Kurt just laughed as a response. "Any reason you called?"

"_You_ asked _me_ to call you. So, I did," Kurt said with a shrug that he then realized Blaine couldn't see, clicking the lock.

"Kurt Hummel!" Blaine sounded shocked. "Did you just _lock_ your _door_? This isn't that kind of phone call!" Kurt laughed, glad that Blaine couldn't see him blushing.

"Blaine..." Kurt realized that he was practically flirting with a guy whose last name he didn't know. Holy Jacobs, he was turning into _Santana_.

"Anderson," Blaine replied with a chuckle.

"Blaine Anderson, you try living with an over-protective father who doesn't like the idea of his gay son talking on the phone with other gay boys that he doesn't know and not locking your door," he replied smartly, creeping quietly back down the stairs.

"Did you say that all in one breath?" Blaine sounded impressed, which was good, but ignored what he said, which was bad.

"Is that really what you're focusing on?" Kurt asked, collapsing onto his bed and wincing as it pulled abused muscles in his back.

"Yes. Why's your dad so protective?" Feeling a bit creepy for doing so while he was talking to Blaine on the phone, Kurt lifted up his shirt to see how bad the bruising was.

"I'm all he has. He trusts me, but he's especially protective when it comes to guys." The answer: very, _very_ bad. His normally pale skin was a mural of dark greens, blues, purples, and black. His back probably looked even worse.

"So, your dad is..." Blaine sounded afraid to ask, now, _that_ was endearing.

"He's known for longer than I have, and he's adjusting, he really is. Sometimes, it's just awkward trying to find common ground. Especially after the Finn fiasco, and Carole moving out, and now with Karofsky, plus his health. It takes a toll on him."

"Hold your horses there. Finn would be?" Wow, talking like Blaine felt way too much like talking to Mercedes, he had forgotten he had only met the boy that day.

"My father is dating a lovely woman named Carole Hudson, I actually introduced them. Carole is the mother of my friend Finn Hudson, who is in Glee club and our school's quarterback. We have... history. Karofsky is the Neanderthal that I mentioned who is determined to make my life a living hell." Like he had thought before, he certainly did have an interesting history.

"Three questions. What kind of history do you have with Finn?" The question he wanted Blaine to ask the _least_. "What was wrong with your dad's health?" Scratch that last thought. "And where's your mom?" Bad, worse, and worst.

"The history between Finn and I is long and complicated. My dad had a heart attack a few weeks ago and he's still recovering. He's... belligerent about the food and exercise, to say the last," Kurt grimaced, even though Blaine couldn't see him. "And..." he swallowed back tears, "my mom died when I was six." It was the only time he had ever had to say that to someone, most people just... knew. Even Sam knew by now.

"I'm so sorry," Blaine sounded horrified. "I never should have asked."

"It's fine," Kurt replied, clearing his throat. "It was years ago." Somehow, it was easier having the conversation over the phone and not having to look into Blaine's amber eyes that seemed able to peer right into his soul.

"And I'm sorry about your dad too, though I'm glad you have a good support system." Blaine's tone made Kurt wonder.

"What about your parents?" he asked.

"My parents are supportive," Blaine said flatly, but it didn't sound convincing. It also didn't sound open for discussion. "What about Finn?"

"Well, I..." Sometimes Kurt wished he lived in a younger era so he would have a phone cord to twirl around his fingers as he tried to explain difficult things. "I had a huge, _huge_ crush on him. Well, not a crush exactly, but not love either. Something in the middle, I guess infatuation is the best word. Finn's straight, almost painfully so, and I... well, I shamelessly threw myself at him."

"Why?" Blaine's voice cut through his memories just as he was about to start rambling.

"He was always the jock that stuck up for me. Even in the smallest of ways, it really meant something. Finn never meant harm, he never threw things at me that hit their mark, and he never actively participated in the bullying. He even tried to help calm his best friend Puck, who, up until he joined Glee Club, was my main aggressor. Back then, that was enough for me." Kurt was flushing bright red as he spoke. Blaine must be thinking that he's pathetic.

Blaine murmured something that Kurt couldn't decipher, but it sounded an awful lot like 'what about now?'

"What?" Kurt asked into the phone. What did that mean?

"Nothing, I was talking to Wes," Blaine's voice was a little _too_ silky-smooth to be believable. It was bizarre how the had just met, but he knew Blaine so well already, and vice versa. "What exactly counts as 'throwing yourself at him'?" Oh boy.

"Well, it all started out when I needed to join the football team, and-"

"I apologize for interrupting, but why would _you_, at about 5'9" and 110 pounds, feel the _need_ to join the football team?" Kurt almost protested that he weighed more then that (and was taller than that), but it didn't seem worth the effort.

"My father caught me making a video of myself, Tina, and Brittany dancing to 'Single Ladies.' It was before I had officially come out to him, and it was embarrassing. So I lied and told him that A) Tina was my un-exclusive girlfriend, and B) that the video, which happened to be shot in an embarrassingly sequined unitard, was conditioning work. Brittany made up the lie that I was the kicker, and I just had to go with it." Blaine was laughing on the other end of the line, and Kurt's face burned.

"Can I have a copy of that?" he choked out between fits of laughter, and if he had been in Kurt's bedroom in person, Kurt would have smacked him.

"It's not that funny!" Kurt said, but, yeah, it kind of was.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, go on." Blaine calmed his laughter.

"Finn got me the try-out, and I made it. Funnily enough, he mistook my asking for a favor as me asking him to the Prom." Blaine bust out laughing again, and Kurt's face really couldn't get any redder.

"It's not funny!" he was more exasperated than frustrated.

"Yes, yes it is, but go on." Kurt rolled his eyes.

"While I was on the football team was when Finn first discovered that Quinn was pregnant. He decided that, to support his baby, he needed a football scholarship. How this lead to our inevitable 'Single Ladies' dance, I have no idea. But, somehow, I managed to get the entire McKinley High football team dancing to 'Single Ladies' in the last quarter of a game, in full pads." Now Kurt laughed with Blaine, because the sight had been rather ridiculous. Even the other team laughed.

"Time goes by. Rachel quits the Glee club and then rejoins. We announce to her that Quinn is knocked up, a big mistake, and we learned that fact from the actual father, who is not her boyfriend Finn, but her boyfriend's aforementioned best friend, Puck. Drama, drama. Later, we learn that for Sectionals that year, a ballad is required. We get paired up to sing Ballads to each other. I, of course, get paired up with Finn, who I was 'madly in love' with at the time."

"Please tell me you put air quotes around that," Blaine added, sounding serious, and Kurt smiled. Could Blaine be interested in him too?

"Yes, I did. So, Finn is having troubles with Quinn's pregnancy, and he sings, to the unborn baby, _I'll Stand By You_, by the Pretenders. After, in a failure of mine, he sings _(You're) Having My Baby,_ by Paul Anka, to Quinn in front of her parents as a way of telling them that she's pregnant. I try to comfort him, verbally, and he brushes it off, but I could tell he was upset. I told him my ballad choice, which I'm not going to tell you, because it's embarrassing, and I don't even think he got it. At the end, we all ended up singing _Lean on Me_ by Bill Withers. It went over well, and Finn and I ignored each other for a while."

"What was the song?" Kurt resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. He didn't need another, more visible bruise.

"I'm not telling you," he replied firmly. He could withstand as long as he wasn't looking into Blaine's eyes.

"_Please_?" Blaine asked, drawing the word out. "I promise I won't laugh."

"Yes, you will. Even I would laugh at myself in mockery," Kurt declared dramatically.

"Kurt..." And damn it, he couldn't withstand, Blaine was even cute over the phone.

"_I Honestly Love You_, by Olivia Newton-John." There was silence on the other end. "Blaine?"

"Go on," the tenor replied, but his voice sounded strange. Angry, almost.

"I agreed to give Rachel a make-over after Quinn propositioned me, for some reason. While I was making her over, she revealed to me that she likes Finn. Immediately, jealousy monster rages in me. I... horrible person that I was, made her up in the exact opposite of the way Finn likes, hoping to gain the edge. It was dumb, and silly, and I shouldn't have hurt Rachel like that, and-"

"Kurt," Blaine cut him off and now he sounded back to normal. "You're putting too much emphasis on one silly mistake. Finn, I assume, is with this Rachel now, and all's well."

"Sorry, I can.. ramble. And yes, Finn and Rachel are together." Again, he hadn't forgotten how little they knew about each other.

"Well, I'm happy for them. Moving on!" Blaine made the idea of moving on from silly past mistakes seem so... simple.

"Finn finds out the true father of the baby, he and Quinn break up, he and Rachel get together and break up, he dates Santana and Brittany, Rachel dates Jesse, he sleeps with Santana, blah, blah, blah." Blaine's head must be spinning by now, even Kurt's did sometimes. "I introduce our widow parents in the hope of getting closer to Finn. Like most of my plans, this backfires painfully, as Finn and my dad have more in common than my dad and I ever will. After-"

"Wait, what do you mean, about your dad?" Kurt sighed. Blaine _had_ to ask all the difficult questions, didn't he?

"Finn likes football, basketball, baseball, hockey, the Deadliest Catch, and in every way is the all-American son that every father wants. I'm... far from it. My dad and Finn became really close because they shared all of those things, and I felt... left out. Invisible." Kurt swallowed a lump in his throat.

"Kurt," Blaine's tone was very gentle, "I know that, for a lot of parents, especially dads, that having a gay son can be hard. It's not exactly what they imagine when their wives tell them 'it's a boy,' I know that, and so do you. But you have to understand that your dad cares about you."

"I know. I just wish sometimes that... I could hold up my end of the bargain, and my dad wouldn't have to work so hard to find something we can agree on." They had talked about this, after _Rose's Turn_, but it was still difficult.

"I understand," Blaine replied quietly, and he was obviously thinking of his own demons, but Kurt didn't ask.

"When our parents started getting more serious, Carole and Finn moved in, which was a disaster. Finn and I ended up having to share a room. While my room is actually our basement, and it's _huge_, Finn was very uncomfortable, and I'll admit that I didn't do anything to help him feel more comfortable." Somehow, it was easier talking about this to an almost completely objective third-party. "I... redecorated the room, and, while I loved it, Finn said it was too feminine. The look has been compared, at times, to a Moroccan brothel." Blaine snorted. "It's not funny, Blaine."

"I'm sorry, I'm trying to imagine you living in a brothel." Kurt couldn't figure out exactly what that meant. "Uh, I mean... a brothel-decorated room." Blaine didn't sound convincing.

"It suffices to say that the incident did not end well," Kurt continued, ignoring his friend. He really didn't want to discuss the details of his heart cracking in half and his crush on Finn being brutally ended.

"Kurt," Blaine said in a flat tone. "What happened?" Kurt gave up on the idea of not telling Blaine the details.

"Finn got mad," he said simply. "I'm not the master of subtlety, so much so that Finn, who's rather like a loveable but dim puppy, picked up on it. He just... relayed how uncomfortable he was around me, not wanting to get dressed in front of me to the point that he put his underwear on in the shower whenever I was around. Some... rude names were included."

"Kurt..." How could he make four simple letters so beseeching?

"He called me a fag," Kurt said quietly, lowing his eyes to the ground on instinct. Blaine was silent. "All of the sudden he was just another jock, picking on the queer, and I realized how... intimidating Finn could be. One second he was my knight in shining armor, and the next he was moment from punching me in the face. Needless to say, my crush died a horrific death at that moment." Kurt took a deep breath, blinking back the tears he had never meant to cry in front of Finn.

"Kurt?" Blaine's voice asked hesitantly. "Are you alright?"

"Not entirely," he managed with a chocked laugh. "My dad intervened with some pretty choice words before it became physical, and Finn got kicked out of the house. He thinks I'm a predator now, Finn that is, and that I don't know what 'no' means. He even stopped me from doing a duet with the new guy, just because he was afraid I would start to stalk him. I ended up doing the duet by myself." Somehow, saying that with the events that led up to it mate it powerful commentary on his life.

"Could anything else have happened between the two of you?" Blaine asked incredulously.

"I slapped him on the ass in front of the entire school during a performance of _Push It_ for the Glee assembly," Kurt offered with a shaky laugh, wiping away a few stray tears.

"What goes _on_ at your school?" Blaine sounded shocked and amused.

"My school is a madhouse of the worryingly odd and the irritatingly idiotic," Kurt deadpanned, making Blaine chuckle.

"You think _your_ school is a madhouse? Try living at a boarding school filled _entirely_ with over-caffeinated _idiots_ locked away from girls! I swear, everyone in this school is losing it," Blaine exclaimed, obviously grinning.

"Does that include you?" Kurt asked with a smile.

"Maybe." There was a scuffle on the other line, and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor.

"Yes, yes it does," came a semi-familiar voice across the line.

"Hi... Wes?" Kurt guessed.

"Correct. And I warn you right now that Blaine is losing his mind," Wes said in a very serious voice. Kurt could vaguely hear Blaine saying 'give me back my phone' in the background. "He also has to go now, because he promised us he'd help with our English essays and he's been on the phone with you for like 40 minutes instead. Bye, Kurt."

"Alright. Tell Blaine I said," _click_, "goodbye," Kurt finished with a smile after Wes had hung up on him.

* * *

><p>"Well, that took long enough," Wes announced once he had hung up on Kurt.<p>

"That was rude," Blaine commented from the empty bed. "We were kind of having a serious conversation."

"I didn't know it was possible to have a serious conversation with you," Wes commented skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

"Just because _we've_ never had a serious conversation, for which _you_ are usually at fault, doesn't mean I'm not _capable_ of doing so," Blaine said with a roll of his eyes. "Besides, Kurt is... different."

"You like him." Wes reworded it quite well.

"No. I met him _today_, for heaven's sake. He's just... interesting to talk to. He makes you want to listen. Plus, we have a lot of common history." David walked out of Blaine's bathroom.

"Which is why you rather rudely excused yourselves from coffee today and made us leave," he commented with a pout. "I liked him too!"

"I'm sorry. He just seemed more comfortable around me, especially after I told him I was gay," Blaine apologized with a shrug.

"Which means he likes you too," David replied, rolling his eyes.

"Which _means_ he's going through a difficult time when most, if not all, of the straight guys he talks to are uncomfortable around him. I think it made him feel better to have someone that knew what he was going through." Wes and David gave him identical looks which somehow managed to be skeptical and sympathetic at the same time. "You two should be twins, you know that?" Blaine snorted. "Or screwing."

"Funny," Wes added, "but deflecting nonetheless."

"There's nothing going on between me and Kurt," Blaine emphasized, exasperated.

"That doesn't mean you don't _want_ there to be anything between you and Kurt," Wes pointed out, and Blaine had to resist the urge to bang his head against a brick wall, which was common when he was talking to Wes and/or David.

"Kurt doesn't need a boyfriend. He needs a friend, a rock, someone he can count on no matter what. That description doesn't exactly fit with relationship drama," Blaine pointed out. "And, later, if what you claim is between Kurt and I blossoms into... more, I'd be fine with that."

"Which means you like him," Wes repeated stubbornly.

"It doesn't matter if I like Kurt, or Kurt likes me, or both. We're just _friends_ and that's all we're going to be for a while." Even Blaine didn't like the sound of that.

"Keep telling yourself that," David said with a snort.

* * *

><p>Kurt felt ridiculous for being happy that morning. He had finally met a guy that could be interested in him. The expression 'walking on air' was ridiculous, Kurt felt more like dancing and singing and skipping.<p>

He didn't even realize that he was humming _Teenage Dream_ at his locker until Mercedes asked. From the look she was giving him, Kurt guessed she thought it was odd that he was so _happy_, considering Karofsky was still targeting him, but he couldn't help it.

"What's going on, white boy? You're acting like Finn suddenly declared his love for you, or Karofsky died," Mercedes asked, all sass.

"Please, Merce. I'm so over him." Kurt hadn't told Mercedes exactly _why_ he was over Finn. He didn't want his ex-crush _dead_.

"Sure you are. Why are you so happy?" Mercedes moved on, and Kurt knew he would have to tell her sometime, about both Finn and Blaine.

"Can you keep a secret? And by 'secret,' I mean 'secret from Rachel.'" He loved his best girl, but she could have a big mouth sometimes.

"For you? Of course." Kurt linked arms with his favorite girl, making sure they bumped hips every few steps, walking her to her first class.

"There's this guy." Immediately, Mercedes cut him off, as he expected her to.

"Didn't we agree that we wouldn't go down the straight-boy road again?" Mercedes complained loudly, turning heads.

"Who said anything about a _straight_ guy?" Kurt asked with a little smile, ignoring the people staring at them.

"Details, _now_," Mercedes demanded.

"His name is Blaine, he's _extremely_ gorgeous, and he's the lead singer of the Dalton Academy Warblers." Kurt had given Rachel the exact same look when she talked about Jesse that Mercedes was giving him now.

"The Warblers? As in, our competition for Sectionals?" She sounded a little like Rachel (not that he would ever tell her that. He valued his life too much).

"Don't give me that look. That's the look we give Rachel when she's talking crazily, not the look you give me." The look didn't cease. "Blaine's really nice, and he understands what I'm going through. "The look softened. "Besides, it's not like he's shown the slightest bit of interest in me." The look was gone.

"Well, Blaine doesn't know what he's missing," she said with a grin. Stopping at the door of her first class, Mercedes look up at him. "You're alright?"

"I'm fine," he answered, which was a lot truer today then yesterday.

"Good. Get goin' or you'll be late for class," she teased, ignoring the fact that the bell had already rung.

"The teacher's don't even comment anymore," Kurt said sadly. "I'll see you in Glee."

It wasn't until he rounded the corner from Mercedes' classroom that Karofsky shoved him. He caught himself in time not to bang his head off the lockers. Kurt mumbled 'what the hell is wrong with you?' under his breath, but he wasn't quite ready to face Karofsky yet.

* * *

><p>They had Glee at lunch, and while Kurt wanted to share gossip with his best friend (as well as talk about Blaine, who had been the object of his thoughts all day) it was the girls' turn to perform.<p>

The guys hadn't talked at all about their mash-up since yesterday (that Kurt knew of. It wouldn't surprise him if they had just given up on including him), and most of them were watching to measure how good their performance had to be (Kurt assumed). Kurt was just watching because Mercedes had told him she was excited about the performance (though she, obviously, didn't tell him what they were doing).

The girls, he decided, looked amazing in leather. Each one of them were dressed from head to toe in rock outfits, and the boys definitely had to step it up. All the boys were staring at their girlfriends in awe, and Kurt rolled his eyes, but he could _almost _see the basis of the appeal. 'Almost' being the operative word.

_Start me up  
>Start me up<br>Tommy used to work on the docks  
>Union's been on strike<br>He's down on his luck...it's tough, so tough_

Rachel, naturally, sung the first verse, but Kurt had to admit she sounded good. For all her irritating qualities, she had a very versatile voice.

_**We've got to hold on ready or not  
>You live for the fight when it's all that you've got<br>Start me up  
>We're halfway there<br>Livin' on a prayer**_

**If you start me up  
>Kick on the starter<br>give it all you got, you got, you got  
>I can't compete<br>with the riders in the other heats  
>I made a grown man cry<br>I made a grown man give it a shot**

Kurt was surprised that Mercedes had been given a verse (that's probably why she was so excited), but she sounded _phenomenal_. What surprised him even more was that his phone buzzed while they were performing. Everyone he normally texted was in the room.

The text was from Blaine, and Kurt's heart skipped a beat. It simply said 'Courage' but it meant so much that he cared to break all the Dalton rules to support someone he had met yesterday. Blaine really cared about what happened with Kurt and Karofsky, and that meant more than anything. Honestly, he was putting way too much thought into one text message. He must have been smiling like an idiot.

_**Start me up  
>We're half way there<br>Livin' on a prayer**  
>Livin' on a prayer<em>

_**We've got to hold on ready or not  
>You live for the fight when it's all that you've got<br>Start me up  
>We're halfway there<br>Livin' on a prayer  
>Take my hand and we'll make it i swear<br>Livin' on a prayer  
>Livin' on a prayer<br>Start me up**_

The girls had definitely earned their applause, but before Mr. Schuester could really say anything, Becky rushed in. Kurt smiled at the girl, having grown very fond of her, but she ignored him completely, obviously working for Coach Sylvester.

"Coach said to give you this." Sometimes he wondered why Beck did Coach Sylvester's bidding.

Mr. Schuester left in a hurry, and everyone was kind of stumped. Rachel kept talking about the songs and the costumes while Mercedes rolled her eyes every few seconds. Eventually, the club kind of assumed they were dismissed.

Kurt couldn't help but open Blaine's text message back up. Honestly, Blaine could have been thinking a million different things when he sent it, but only one thing was really important to Kurt at that very moment (the rest would be important later). Blaine _cared_, like on one else seemed to.

He didn't even realize he had stopped walking until he got a sudden burst of momentum from an unwanted place. Karofsky ripped his phone out of his hand and shoved him into the locker, lingering just long enough to give him a menacing look. What probably annoyed Kurt most was the fact that the girl standing possibly two feet from him didn't say a word.

Gathering up his courage (or possibly anger), Kurt raced after Karofsky. "Hey!" he yelled down the hallway, not that Karofsky could hear him. Shoving aside the door, he yelled "I'm talking to you."

"The girls' locker room's next door." If anything, that made him angrier. After everything that had happened, he had just as much of a right to be here as Karofsky did. He was a _guy_, damn it!

"What is your problem?" Kurt stormed right up to him.

"'Scuse me?" Was he really that thick?

"What are you so scared of?" Why did Karofsky care? It's not like he sought out the bully, but the other way around.

"Besides you sneaking in here to peek at my junk?" Ignoring the horrifying mental images, Kurt's rage continued speaking for him.

"Oh, yeah, every straight guys' nightmare, that all us gays are secretly out to molest and convert you. Well, guess what, ham hock, you're not my type!" Who's type is Karofsky? For someone who picked on Kurt for being gay, he had never had a girlfriend (making out with Brittany was not a qualifier for being straight).

"That right?"

"Yeah. I don't dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and are going to be bald by the time they're thirty." Karofsky held up his fist, but Kurt honestly didn't care at the moment if he was hit. He had to make a point that he wasn't afraid of Karofsky. Nobody pushes the Hummel's around.

"Do not push me, Hummel." Kurt honestly couldn't understand why Karofsky was getting so angry. He was saying he _wasn't_ attracted to him, shouldn't he be glad?

"You gonna hit me? Do it." Kurt had probably lost it slightly, but he couldn't care less. Karofsky didn't have the nerve... he hoped.

"Don't push me!" Karofsky slammed the locker shut, but Kurt didn't flinch. Every inch of his body was humming with adrenaline and courage. He couldn't help but think that Blaine would be proud.

"Hit me cause it's not gonna change who I am. You can't punch the gay out of me any more than I can punch the ignoramus out of you!"

"Get outta my face!" Karofsky screamed, but Kurt didn't care. He was on a roll.

"You are nothing but a scared little boy who can't handle how extraordinarily ordinary you are!" Kurt was actually wagging his finger in front of Karofsky's face, but he knew he was making an effect.

The shock of Kurt's life came in that moment. Cold, too wet, horribly chapped lips pressed against his own, Karofsky's hands practically engulfing his head. Kurt couldn't even process the thought to shov him away. Terror ran through his body, paralyzing him as his bully kissed him desperately.

Kurt was still frozen as Karofsky pulled away. The look on his face was almost disturbingly tender. He leaned forward again and Kurt mustered the brain power to shove him away, pushing himself back in the process.

Karofsky slammed his fist against the lockers, before running away with what was almost... a sob. Honestly, Kurt couldn't care less at that moment. Karofsky had just... oh wow.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: You guys can't really blame me for a late update, considering I spent 90% of this week preparing for a funeral. Have some heart, and don't call the number at the top.**

**Song used:**_  
>'Start Me UpLivin' On A Prayer'_ by Glee Cast (duh)  
>All the other songs had artists next to them... I think.<p>

**Reviews are Love.**


	3. Stop! In the Name of Love

_Holy Jacobs! Karofsky's gay? What the hell? Oh my GaGa, what am I gonna do?_ Kurt's thoughts ran on repeat as he leaned against the lockers in the boy's locker room. He wasn't sure whether to feel disgusted or terrified. Apparently, his body had chosen 'nauseated.'

It was kind of sad, Kurt would think later, that his first instinct was to find his cell phone. There was only one person he could tell who would understand and not be disgusted or angry. The girl that had watched Karofsky push him and said nothing had, at least, saved his iPhone from being trampled.

Forgetting that class even existed, he ran to his car and shakily hit 'send' where his phone was still open to Blaine's text message. If there had been any room left in his emotional capacity, he would have been mad. So much help 'courage' gave him.

"B-Blaine," Kurt asked into the silent phone, voice shaking.

"Kurt? Is something wrong?" Blaine asked urgently. Kurt could hear someone (could it be Wes?) saying 'No cell phones, Blaine' in the background, but he honestly didn't care.

"Yeah... yes." Now that Kurt had called, he wasn't sure if it was a good idea, how would he explain this?

"What happened? Did you talk to Karofsky? Shut it, Wes!" It took Kurt's confused brain a few seconds to realize that Blaine simply hadn't taken his mouth far enough away from his phone.

"'Talk' being a lucrative word." The statement would have been funny if he hadn't sounded so _terrified_, even to his own ears. He was completely overwhelmed by so many swirling emotions, it felt like he could explode at any moment.

"What happened?" Blaine repeated, and Kurt heard a rush of air that indicated Blaine was getting up and leaving somewhere. He heard more angry talking in the background, which he and Blaine both ignored. Nothing seemed as important as the giant truth that Karofsky was a _closet-case_. Oh GaGa, he was gonna be sick.

"He, he shoved me and I got really mad, and there was yelling involved, and, oh God, he kissed me." Kurt broke up in tears as he talked, just shoving the words out, uncaring that he had slipped up and mentioned a non-existent being.

"He... oh my God..." Blaine sounded just as shocked as he had been. "Hey, sh, sh, it's alright. It's alright, Kurt," Blaine tried to comfort him as sobs tore from his throat unbidden.

"He... it's all been because he..." but Kurt couldn't finish that sentence or he _would_ throw up in his fifty thousand dollar car.

"I get it, it's alright," Blaine murmured soothingly, and whole fresh round of sobs boiled up.

"What am I gonna do?" Kurt asked, desperate, practically begging, needing the advice of someone who knew everything in his eyes.

"I don't know, Kurt, just... calm down, first." Blaine kept murmuring words as Kurt slowly sobbed himself out. The idea that Karofsky was violent towards him because he was... attracted to him, just made him feel nauseous and terrified in a way nothing else had.

"I don't know what to do!" Kurt sobbed, his voice sounding needy and pleading, but he was so hopelessly lost in a situation that was far too complicated for him to handle alone.

"It'll be okay, Kurt, I promise," Blaine said softly, and that calmed him like nothing else.

After Kurt had calmed himself and could speak rationally, he started apologizing. Apparently, today was a day of horrible word-vomit. "I'm sorry, it's just, Karofsky has scared me for so long, and he's so much bigger than me, and the fact that he... he could probably do whatever he wants with me, and that's _terrifying._ I can't help him, I don't even think I can be around him right now without throwing up-"

"Kurt."

"-it's not even that he could hurt me, he could do things so much _worse_, and-"

"Kurt..."

"-nobody would help, nobody would know. There was a girl standing two feet from me when he pushed me today and she didn't say a word-"

"Kurt!" Blaine's yell managed to snap him out of his daze. "Calm down. You just need to talk to him, calmly and rationally. No screaming, no anger, just try to explain that what he's feeling right now is okay. Believe it or not, he's probably more scared right now then you are. After all, you could out him, and he considers that the scariest idea of all."

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea..." Kurt muttered under his breath.

"Kurt, you can't do that to someone." Damn his phone for having such good speakers. "How would you have felt if someone had outed you?"

"I'm pretty sure that if my voice didn't do that for them, my mannerisms and style did," Kurt said flatly. "_You _may have had an actual closet, but _I _had a glass one."

"I've come to believe, in the three days that I've known you, that you are a nice person. Nice people _do not out scared little boys!_" Blaine didn't sound like he honestly believed Kurt would do such a thing.

"You couldn't just allow me to bask in the idea that I have the power for one moment?" Blaine was silent. "I don't think I can talk to him though, not alone."

"I could come with you... I mean, I'm obviously not intimidating, which could be good or bad, but I can definitely support you." Now Kurt felt like crying again, for an entirely different reason.

"I don't think I can go back in there today," he said honestly. He feared looking in a mirror, because he always looked like a mess after he'd been crying, and he was too shaken up to deal with his life at the moment.

"Where are you?" Blaine asked.

"My car, in the parking lot. And I'm sorry for calling you in the middle of the day, but..." Kurt let his sentence trail off. Blaine understood.

"It was an emergency. We were just having lunchtime Warbler's rehearsal, so Wes will be pissed at me, but he'll live. How about... we meet for coffee at the Lima Bean? It's right about in the middle, and it's generally a Warbler hang-out, so we probably won't meet anyone you know." Thank you, universe, for delivering a perfect guy unto Kurt's lap. Honestly, he had thought you were quite a bitch before, but now he is quite possibly in love with you.

"That sounds great. Thank you." Kurt would be okay for driving.

"Anytime. You'll be okay for driving?" Clearly, Blaine could read minds, or maybe just Kurt's.

"Yeah, I'll be fine, I'll meet you there."

* * *

><p>Blaine was already sitting at a table by the time Kurt had got there. Well, that was slightly inaccurate. Kurt had seen Blaine drive in while he was trying to make himself look mildly presentable instead of terrified and blotchy. Blaine had two coffees (the sweetheart) so Kurt sat right down.<p>

"I wasn't entirely sure what to get you... grande skinny vanilla latte okay?" Not Kurt's usual coffee order, but not bad.

"Skinny?" Kurt raised an eyebrow, half-teasing, half-curious.

"I, uh, you mentioned you were a cheerleader, and, uh... I'm sorry." Flustered was a good look on Blaine, but Kurt was coming to realize that pretty much anything was a good look on Blaine.

"I was teasing, it's perfect." Bonus: Blaine had remembered that he was a cheerleader. "But I'm an ex-cheerleader." Now it was Blaine's turn to raise an eyebrow. "It suffices to say that the training to be a Cheerio, which is what we call our cheerleaders, is rather... rigorous, and I wanted to focus all my attention on winning Nationals, but that's getting into dangerous waters."

"I agree. I vote that we make a solemn pact not to talk about Glee Club in any way that isn't historical for the purposes of our upcoming competition." Blaine managed to keep a completely straight face while he said the words, but lost his composure when Kurt started to laugh. He sounded so much like Rachel.

"Well, I found the proof that you go to a private school," Kurt teased, taking a sip of his latte.

"Oh, hush. But I'm serious about the whole no talking about Glee Club thing. Wes would skin and castrate me," Blaine said very seriously, and Kurt almost choked on his latte. Thankfully, he didn't, because what kind of impression would that make?

"Can't have that, can we." It was after he had said the words that he realized what that sounded like, but Blaine just grinned.

"Wes is already pissed at me enough as it is," Blaine added with a roll of his eyes.

"Why?" Kurt asked, because it was possible there was another reason besides the lunchtime Warblers' rehearsal which he had interrupted.

"The lunchtime rehearsal and the skipping out on the rest of the school day. He'll be fine. He'll blow a cork on me tonight, and then he'll be all better." Blaine was obviously trying to be funny, but Kurt felt guilty.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called you in the middle of the day." Blaine visibly resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Remember what I said about that 2 A.M. hurricane? I meant it, any time you need me, I'm there for you." As Blaine talked, he placed his hand over Kurt's, making his heart skip a beat. "But don't call during too many rehearsals, or Wes will think you're trying to sabotage me," Blaine added with a grin, pulling his hand away.

"It was a tornado. And would _you_ think I was trying to sabotage you?" Kurt asked, mostly kidding.

"No. I trust that you're a decent person, horrible attempts at spying aside." Kurt flushed a little at the reminder, mock-glaring at his friend. "So, in the rapidness of our phone call last night, I caught a whirlwind of names I've never heard. Care to introduce me to your club?"

"Now who's spying?" Kurt teased, smiling at the tenor.

"Me!" Blaine said excitedly, acting like an annoying little kid and making Kurt want to swat him upside the head. "I was just curious because they're your friends," he said in a more serious tone, "you don't have to tell me."

"I was teasing, again. Honestly, you seem to think I'm incapable of doing so," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes.

"I wouldn't blame you if you were." Suddenly, the air became cold as the mood became serious.

"I don't want to talk about it." Actually, at the moment, he _couldn't_ talk about it, not without making a scene in the middle of the coffee shop.

"You'll have to eventually," Blaine pointed out, taking a drink of his coffee.

"Not today," Kurt said flatly, and Blaine shrugged as if to say 'whatever you want.' "Only five people originally auditioned, and everyone who's ever auditioned for New Directions has been included. My fabulous self," Blaine chuckled at that, "Rachel Berry, the most irritation diva to ever grace this planet, Mercedes Jones, the most _fabulous_ and loveable diva to ever exist, Artie Abrams, who's disabled and dorky, but really nice, and-"

"Disabled?" Blaine interrupted.

"He's in a wheelchair," Kurt clarified, mock-glaring at the tenor for interrupting and secretly impressed that he didn't seem at all surprised that there was someone in a _wheelchair_ in their club. "Last, but certainly not least, Miss Tina Cohen-Chang, who's really quiet and shy, and used to fake a stutter so that people would ignore her."

"Wow, you guys are even more messed up then I had originally thought," Blaine said with a grin, obviously (hopefully) kidding. "How did Finn join?"

"Nobody really knows," Kurt answered honestly. The fact that Quarterback and Pied Piper Finn Hudson had joined the club back when he was on the absolute top of the pyramid was still a mystery to everyone. "One day he just showed up at rehearsal, and we were all won over by his amazing talent. He seemed reluctant and he quit for a short time when some insignificant early drama happened, but nobody really knows why he walked into our auditorium."

"Twelve people are required to qualify for Sectionals. Page 2, provision 5, first addendum," Blaine rattled off automatically, quickly chagrined by Kurt's amused smirk.

"Are you the human rule book?" That, Blaine decided, did not dignify an answer. "We have 12 people in our club, but we started out with 6. Patience, grasshopper." Blaine cracked up laughing. "The queen bee of the school, one Miss Quinn Fabray," Blaine could hear the care and almost... sympathy in Kurt's voice, "decided that she needed to protect her boyfriend Finn from the evilness that is loserdom, so she joined the club and 'recruited', or possibly bullied, two other cheerleaders into the New Directions, Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce."

"That makes nine." The frosty glare Kurt gave him was enough of a response.

"Do you remember me mentioning an entire football team dancing to _Single Ladies_ during the end of a game in full pads?" Kurt asked, the glare diminished by the ghost of a smile, flickering at the sides of his mouth.

"Distinctively," Blaine replied with a laugh.

"I'm sure if you're interested, you could find a video of their humiliation on YouTube. However, the football team was so grateful to me, the club originally believed, that school badass and bully Noah Puckerman, as well as next-to-invisible jocks Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford, joined New Directions."

"'Originally believed'?"

"In reality, one of those things I loathe facing every morning," Blaine laughed slightly, ignoring the twinge in his heart at the idea Kurt had trouble facing each and every day, "Puck, which is what Noah Puckerman has deemed an appropriate nickname, who knows why, was actually looking to be closer to Quinn, whom he had recently slept with. It's been an... interesting experience."

"And those are the faces of the mismatched and unique Glee club that is to challenge us at Sectionals?" Now that sounded an awful lot like spying, but Kurt didn't comment.

"Not quite. Matt Rutherford transferred for no apparent reason, though I have my suspicions, and the newcomer goes by the name Sam Evans, who seems, at the moment, a wannabe Finn." Kurt didn't actually have suspicions about Matt's transfer, but a little drama is what made life interesting.

"I'm not sure if I should be horribly worried for our chances, or laughing at the idea of you twelve being competition to twenty-five well-groomed boys with impeccable manners." Well, that wasn't an entirely accurate description of the Warblers, but Kurt didn't know that.

"You should be worried. For all our differences, and the fact that every single person in our club is a minority, besides 'loser,' which is turning out to be quite the majority, we have incredible talent and we work well together." Perhaps he was exaggerating, slightly, but Rachel would be proud that he was both protecting secrets and talking them up, not that she could ever know about Blaine.

"Every single one of you is a minority? How so?" Blaine sounded honestly curious.

"I think it's pretty obvious what minority I am," Blaine rolled his eyes, "Rachel is Jewish, as is Puck, Mercedes is black, Artie is disabled-"

"You mentioned." Blaine was slowly learning that interrupting only earned him a glare for a few moments and a sharp tone from Kurt.

"Finn is... well, he's unable to tell his rights from his lefts at seventeen, I think you get the picture. "Not quite a minority, but close enough. "Quinn is a teenage mother, Santana is Latina, Brittany is Dutch, Mike is Asian, as is Tina, and Sam is dyslexic." Blaine wolf-whistled, earning himself a few stares (earning them both a few stares), and making Kurt blush at the attention.

"You're right. I'm completely scared for my life," Blaine deadpanned, taking both his and Kurt's (so well-mannered) empty coffee cups to the trash.

"Shut up."

* * *

><p>"Well, I genuinely hope you guys are happy," was how Mr. Schue started lunchtime rehearsal, and Kurt wondered what else could have possibly gone wrong yesterday, "because Coach Beiste has quit." Mr. Schue looked disappointed and angry, but Kurt couldn't care less at the moment. He had nothing to do with this, and whoever did would find a way to work it out.<p>

"Wait, what? That's terrible." Finn sounded legitimately surprised, indicating that he had nothing to do with it.

"Yeah, that's not what we want." Sam sounded less that surprised, and Kurt immediately suspected that he knew what was going on.

"That's the opposite of what we want. The football team is actually winning." Artie sounded like he could know something, but he looked confused, so Kurt would guess 'no.'

"Well than you better put your heads together and find a way to get her back, fast, because I am actually ashamed of you. You really hurt someone who was a great addition to this school." Kurt exchanged a confused look with Mercedes, who obviously had no idea what was going on either. The issue clearly wasn't something that Kurt had missed in the afternoon of... the last two days, actually.

"I'm sorry. What exactly did we do?" Rachel spoke up.

"No, no, it's us, the boys." Not me, Kurt added mentally, but didn't push the issue.

"And Tina," Mike added out loud, making Tina shoot him an angry glance and drawing the attention of half the room, including Rachel. To be completely honest, Kurt couldn't focus on anything but the hideous _poodle_ sweater Rachel was wearing and the confrontation he knew was coming up after this. He knew Blaine had his best interests at heart, but that didn't make him any less nervous.

"We sort of... figured out that picturing Beiste while making out was even better than a cold shower. I, uh, I mean, _I_ don't. Ever," Finn was quick to reassure his angry-looking girlfriend. Kurt rolled his eyes. Typical boys. All their problems were caused by their inability to control their hormones.

"Oh, wow. I... I'm sorry," Quinn said to Sam in what was clearly meant to be a whisper, but the whole room heard clearly.

"Can I just say that this is what happens when people don't put out. If everyone just put out, we would have a winning football team." Twisted, Kurt supposed, but true.

"William!" Principal Figgins called before Mr. Schue could respond. "I need to see you and Noah Puckerman in my office please." This could mean nothing good. It also meant early dismissal, which put a lump in Kurt's throat. Puck looked angry and confused, while Mr. Schue just looked confused.

"Dismissed, guys," he called before beckoning Puck forward and leaving the choir room in dead silence. Rachel stormed out first, quickly followed by a still-apologetic-for-doing-nothing-wrong Finn, leaving couples to break into chatter about what had happened with Coach Beiste.

"I have to go," Kurt excused himself quickly to Mercedes, knowing Blaine would be at the school any minute.

* * *

><p>"Thanks again for coming," Kurt repeated for what must have been the millionth time, sounding breathless and nervous to his own ears, as he lead Blaine up the stairwell from the cafeteria into McKinley. He didn't exactly have a plan, but he knew they would bump into Karofsky eventually.<p>

"Don't worry about it. Just let me do the talking." Blaine could obviously read Kurt's mind, or perhaps had noticed the fact that Kurt was white-knuckling his messenger bag. What he probably didn't know (but Kurt could never be sure) was that he would much rather be holding Blaine's hand, but knew that McKinley wouldn't give that gesture a good reception, even in friendship.

"There he is." Suddenly, it felt far too soon to be seeing him again, and Kurt had to fight to keep on the calm façade he always wore during school. The urge to hold Blaine's hand increased, but he knew he could never do so, especially not in front of Karofsky.

"I got your back." Really, that would be more comforting if Blaine wasn't smaller than even Kurt. "Excuse me," Blaine said politely, and Kurt mentally rolled his eyes. Blaine and his manners.

"Hey lady boys," Karofsky replied, looking calm enough. Kurt bit back the sarcastic comment on his tongue. "This your boyfriend, Kurt?" He almost sounded civil... _almost_.

"Kurt and I would like to talk to you about something." Blaine sounded perfectly civil, and Kurt knew he had made the right choice accepting the very even-tempered Warbler's help.

"I gotta go to class." Karofsky walked purposefully between them, shoving Kurt as if on reflex.

"Kurt told me what you did." A wave of nerves shot through Kurt at Blaine's words. Somehow, that just seemed too blunt.

"Oh yeah. What's that?" Karofsky nonchalantly put his hands in his pocket, and Kurt's anger was rekindled by the way he acted, as though his... sexual assault had no impact. Then he remembered Blaine's comment about Karofsky being scared, and the anger fell away to exasperation.

"You kissed me." Kurt's words sounded too calm for his own ears.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Anyone who had been watching the conversation would have known that Karofsky was lying by the way he looked around for witnesses.

"It seems like you might be a little confused, and that's totally normal." Kurt wondered for a moment what Blaine's story was, then pushed away the thought. Karofsky began to walk away, and Blaine followed, prompting Kurt to do the same. "This is a very hard thing to come to terms with, and you should just know that you're not alone."

Karofsky paused for a moment before turning quickly and pushing Blaine against the railing, growling "Do not mess with me." Kurt boiled over with anger at that moment while Blaine, forever calm, put his hands up as though soothing a scared animal.

"You have to stop this." Kurt surprised himself by shoving Karofsky away from Blaine. It wasn't the strength the act required (Karofsky offered very little resistance), but the courage. Kurt realized he was breathing heavily as he met Karofsky's eyes for a few moments before the bully turned and left with a huff.

"Well, he's not coming out anytime soon," Blaine deadpanned, transitioning smoothly from having been pushed up against the railing to leaning on it. Kurt just dropped his bag onto the landing and dropped himself onto one of the steps, feeling thoroughly defeated. If only he could have helped him...

"What's going on?" Blaine's voice changed quickly from borderline-amusement to caring. "Why are you so upset?" he asked, joining Kurt on the step.

"Because, up until yesterday, I had never been kissed, or, at least, one that counted." It would have been different if he could help Karofsky, befriended him even. Now, he just felt robbed of what was supposed to have been a romantic experience, something that he could never felt back. He felt... used, in a way, and dirty.

Blaine seemed speechless, and Kurt didn't dare look over at him, knowing the caring on his face would cause him to lose any control he had over the tears threatening to spill. Gently nudging Kurt's arm, he said "Come on, I'll buy you lunch." Kurt knew this was an offer to talk outside of school and gladly took it, standing up to follow Blaine back down the stairs.

* * *

><p>"I'm officially a deviant," Blaine announced as they made their way into Breadstix. The restaurant was next-to-empty midday because ninety percent of their customers were McKinley students. This didn't stop their waitress from throwing them a dirty look when Blaine asked for a table for two, but Kurt couldn't find the energy to care, or to answer his friend, for that matter. All he did was raise an eyebrow. "This is the third day in a row that I've skipped most of my afternoon classes." Kurt smiled wanly, not bothering to reply that he hadn't actually had classes on the first day he'd 'skipped.' "Well, that wasn't much of a smile," Blaine said with a cute pout that would usually earn him a wide grin and a snappy retort. Now, all it earned him was Kurt sliding into the booth they had been lead to opposite Blaine. "You're really not going to give me anything to work with here, are you?" Blaine asked, still pouting and trying Kurt's obviously thin patience. "Tell me what's on your mind."<p>

"You know what's on my mind." The moment the humor slid off Blaine's face Kurt felt bad for snapping at him. "I'm sorry. I'm just... stressed."

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't actually read minds, so I really need you to tell me what you're thinking." Now _Blaine's_ smile seemed fake, and Kurt felt really bad.

"I wish we could have helped him," wasn't actually his main concern, but it was probably the first thing they should talk about.

"Kurt," Blaine's tone made him meet his friends eyes, "you can't help _everyone_. Not everyone is as strong or as brave as you and I. Not everyone can come out in high school and face the bullying that comes with it. Believe it or not, what we did today _will_ help him. He's scared, Kurt, I know you could see that, but _I_ could see that it meant something to him that you tried to help him. You should hate him Kurt, for what he did to you yesterday and for everything he's done for you in the past, but, instead, you decided to support him, and I think that _did_ make an impact. The effect won't be immediate, but he'll be thinking about this, and, hopefully, he'll start to understand. There's nothing else we can do." Blaine reached for his hand, giving it hand a quick squeeze before pulling away. Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing Blaine was right. "Now," Blaine drawled, and he sounded much more like the nerdy Warbler he had come to know, much more normal, "you're a wonderful person, and I realize now that you'd do anything to help the people you feel obligated to. However, Karofsky's mental well-being isn't actually forefront on your mind." And Blaine claimed he didn't read minds.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kurt said, mock-seriously, allowing the mood to lighten slightly, knowing it would have to become serious again.

"The kiss. Your first kiss, I suppose, though I'm not sure I know what qualifies as a kiss that counts," Blaine joked slightly, but he had reached for Kurt's hand again.

"For a kiss to qualify, it must be with the gender you prefer," Kurt smiled at his friend, glad for the support offered in that simple gesture.

"Why do I have a feeling their is an interesting story behind that?" Blaine asked with a raised eyebrow, half-amused, half-serious.

"Because you know me too well, even after three days." It was hard to believe they had met three days ago, they were so close, and so much had happened. Plus, they were kind of holding hands at the moment.

"Just water," Blaine replied to the waitress Kurt hadn't even noticed.

"Same," he said absentmindedly.

Once the waitress had left, Blaine's attention refocused on Kurt. "I feel like 'consensual' should be on that list of qualifications somewhere," and, just like that, the joking was gone.

"I don't know what you want me to say," Kurt said honestly. There wasn't much to talk about.

"You were really upset about it yesterday, and you appeared un-bothered by it earlier. How are you feeling now?" Blaine asked, squeezing Kurt's hand in a silent 'go ahead' as he hesitated.

"It's silly," Kurt replied. 'Used' and 'dirty' were words for something horrible. It was just a kiss.

"Nothing about this is silly, up to and including your feelings." Blaine was obviously being serious, but his oh-so-formal tone almost amused Kurt, considering how Blaine was more formal then his teachers were ninety-nine percent of the time.

"Used... dirty." Kurt stared determinedly at the tabletop as he talked.

"Kurt." Blaine's voice was firm but kind, almost forcing Kurt to look up and see the sympathy in his eyes. "That is far from silly. You were _sexually assaulted_."

"Makes it sound more serious than it is," Kurt muttered under his breath, knowing Blaine would hear anyway.

"I know you think it's stupid to be upset over a kiss, but he stole something from you that you can never get back. Personally, I _wouldn't_ count this as your first kiss, but you will, I know that. You have to understand that it is important, and that you have every right to feel used. You also have to understand that you're _not_ dirty because of this." Kurt had never heard Blaine sound so serious, or so _caring._ It was almost... beyond caring really, into something he didn't understand.

"Rationally, I know that. Emotionally..." Kurt let his sentence trail off, knowing Blaine would understand.

"I understand, but _you_ have to understand that this doesn't define you. A scared little boy kissed you. Yes, it was against your will, and yes, it was frightening, but in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter." Blaine motioned to the waiter headed towards them to give them a minute.

"It matters to _me_!" Kurt said, frustrated, pulling his hand away from where he realized it had been clenched in Blaine's for quite a while. Hadn't Blaine just been saying it was important?

"That... came out wrong. It matters that he hurt you, and that he scared you, and that he's gay. But that kiss doesn't count. A kiss should be... a show of caring, if not of love, between two people that _want_ to kiss. That doesn't count as your first kiss. It doesn't even count as _a_ kiss. That's sexual assault." Blaine couldn't explain the whirring thoughts going through his head, but Kurt smiled slightly and placed his hand back on the table.

"You're right, of course." Blaine reached forward to squeeze his friend's hand once before moving onto more mundane topics.

* * *

><p>"So, who is he?" Blaine didn't even jump, he was so accustomed to Charlie's lack of manners.<p>

"Who's who?" Blaine didn't look up from his book as Charlie flounced over to his bed and plopped down, making the words on his page shake.

"The boy!" Charlie exclaimed, pushing Blaine's book out of his hands.

"What boy?" Really, he wasn't trying to sound insolent, but he had no idea what his best friend was talking about, or, rather, that was the attitude he was trying to project. He wondered how Charlie had found out about Kurt so fast.

"The boy that's making you act so un-Blaine-like." A raised eyebrow was all the response that statement required. "The one that's making you so un-composed-ly happy? The one's that's making you, Blaine, Anderson, the most studios junior to ever attend Dalton Academy, skip classes? Not just one class, because we've all done that, but _multiple afternoons_? I wanna meet him." Blaine realized the truth to Charlie's words as he said them. Talking to and helping Kurt was making him a whole different person.

"I'm just supporting a friend." Blaine knew that lie wouldn't last for long. Charlie wasn't a Warbler, but that didn't mean he didn't know _everything_ that happened at Dalton. Some people just have an uncanny knack for hearing things.

"A _gay_ friend. A _cute_ gay friend, according to Wes and David." Blaine groaned.

"Are we sure they're straight?"

"No," Charlie said with a laugh, "but spill."

"He came to visit Dalton, and he just needed someone that knew what he was going through and cared enough to support him," Blaine tried to explain away why he'd immediately put Kurt before everything else.

"Name?" He had to have the gayest, most stubborn, and most verbose best friend on the planet.

"Kurt." Charlie smirked at that, and Blaine had to wonder exactly what his friend was thinking.

"You _like_ him. Finally!" Blaine groaned again, rolling his eyes. Wes, David, Charlie, and many other Warblers had been encouraging him to date from the moment he got to Dalton onwards. Honestly, he would find someone on _his own time_!

"He needs a mentor to support him. He doesn't need a boyfriend right now. To be honest, I don't think he could _handle_ a boyfriend right now, on top of everything he's going through." Everything Blaine said was true, he just didn't like saying it.

"That doesn't mean you don't like him." Blaine didn't answer and Charlie understood perfectly. "Oh, I _so_ get to meet him!" Charlie said with a little flail.

"Can I go back to my book now?" Blaine demanded, annoyed at the green-eyed boy.

"No, you have to tell me about him." And that was that. He knew better than to argue with Charlie.

"His name is Kurt Hummel. He's... our age, I would guess. He goes to McKinley High, and is a part of their glee club. He was a cheerleader at one point and a football player at another." Blaine rattled off all the non-personal stuff he could think of, careful not to mention anything Kurt wouldn't want people to know. Suddenly, he wondered why he was keeping his friend's secrets from someone he would trust with his life, but he shoved the thought away.

"And he's good looking?" Charlie asked, smirking a little.

"Very," Blaine admitted with a sigh. "Well-styled chestnut hair, amazing eyes that flicker from blue to green to gray, porcelain skin, taller than me, lean, and _so_ gorgeous." Blaine didn't realize that his words had run away with him until he let that slip and Charlie grinned like a rabid wolf.

"You _like_ him," Charlie taunted him again.

"Yes," Blaine admitted with a sigh, "but I can't do anything about it right now."

"Shame. He sounds hot." And, just like that, Charlie bounced off his bad and out of his room, leaving Blaine to try and focus on his book while thoughts of Kurt swirled around in his head.

* * *

><p>Kurt carefully arranged the letters in his locker. C - O (ignoring the accent over it) - U - R - A - G - E (also ignoring the accent). Courage. Exactly that he had needed, and exactly what having Blaine around had given him. Speaking of Blaine, Kurt allowed his gaze to wander upwards, towards the picture he had of the mentioned boy. Why Dalton posted their yearbook online, Kurt would never understand, but he had found Blaine's picture.<p>

He didn't look overly-happy as some people do in yearbook photos. Just the corner of his mouth was turned up, one eyebrow raised as though he was questioning the cameraman. His curls (for Kurt knew they were curls, one could practically smell the gel emanating from his hair across a table at the Lima Bean) were gelled perfectly. In the smooth black frame Kurt had chosen, Blaine looked like his very dapper guardian angel.

Kurt allowed a smile to linger on his face, before there was a body pressed against his back and his head hit off the shiny frame, before he fell to the ground. Kurt looked up at his attacker, Karofsky (of course), and saw his blank expression. Ignoring the feeling of disgust, Kurt almost pitied the bully. What he hated the most was that those who passed kept their heads down to avoid his eyes, not saying a word or inquiring as to his health.

Kurt just sat up, fighting back tears, as confusion and hurt and anger rolled inside of him. He couldn't really decide what he was feeling. All he knew was that whatever happened, Blaine would help him through it. For now, he had a mash-up meeting to get to.

* * *

><p>"Hey, dude," Finn greeted him as he walked into the room. Artie and Puck were discussing something in the corner, leaving Finn to sit awkwardly by himself, tossing a football up in the air and catching it. Mike and Sam had yet to arrive.<p>

"Hello," Kurt said coldly, not even bothering to scorn Finn for calling him 'dude,' knowing it would have no effect. He was still rather mad at Finn for not defending him earlier in the week. The counter tenor had the sneaking suspicion he would be stuck with Finn for a long time, the least Finn could do was help in with just their _friends_. Or, rather, Finn's friends.

"I'm sorry about the whole... feather boa thing." Knowing Finn, he hadn't even been listening to Kurt talk, instead trying to think about the backlash for sticking up for him. Apparently, it was not worth it.

"It doesn't matter. To be completely honest, I'm surprised you guys decided to invite me to a meeting at all, after my idea were so brutally shot down. I was expecting to get sheet music for some horribly mashed-up classic rock, and sing on the spot." Finn's expression looked guilty, and perhaps Kurt was being too harsh, but Artie cut in before Finn could respond.

"That's kind of the thing. We want to do your idea. Not the costumes," he quickly remedied at Kurt's excited look, "but the songs. Sam, Mike, and Finn told me what happened, exactly, with Coach Beiste, and we wanted to use it as an apology to her."

"Do I want to know, exactly?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow. His ideas would be better with his costumes, but he would take what he could get.

"No, you probably don't. It involves tutus and butcher meat and breasts," Puck said flatly. If Kurt had been anywhere but school, he would have laughed until his sides hurt, but now he kept his composure.

"Then that's a definite 'no.'"

"So, you up for helping us out? We just want to keep the costumes simple though. Oh, and, uh, we kind of want Finn, Puck, Sam, and I to sing leads. Y'know, because of the opposites thing." If it had been anyone but Artie, Kurt would have been mad, but he couldn't find the motivation to be angry at the generally well-meaning boy.

"Fine."

* * *

><p>"I don't get it. It's boys against the girls, but what's the winner get?" Trust Coach Beiste to ask the one question no one else had. Kurt had to admit, for all of the boys' occasional idiocy, the six of them looked truly classic in their suits. Even Puck, and that was a hard task to accomplish.<p>

"Well, we were hoping for your forgiveness." How was it that Finn, one of the most in-eloquent people Kurt had ever met, especially when the impact is bad for all involved, always ended up doing the impromptu speeches?

"Yeah, we just wanted to apologize for hurting your feelings," Sam commented quietly from beside him.

"Coach Beiste, we think you're awesome." Kurt mentally bemoaned the fact that Finn knew very few adjectives besides 'awesome' and 'cool.' "And even though you're all hard and tough on the outside, doesn't mean you're not the opposite on the inside."

"Like a chocolate turtle." Clearly, Sam wasn't exactly second choice for making these speeches either.

"Totally. You're nougat-y." Finn got the exact same look from Coach Beiste as he did from Artie and Kurt. "We totally get that now. You're like a mash-up."

"Why don't you guys just get to the song?" It was probably the only time that Mr. Schuester would ever be his intervening angel.

"Totally." Did straight males have no vocabularies whatsoever? "This mash-up is dedicated to you, Coach. Hard and badass on one hand, and soft and girly on the other."

"We hope it makes you smile, because when you smile, you're pretty, and it lights up the room." Puck was getting a total 'you're full of shit' look from Coach Beiste, but it was probably one of the most charming things Kurt had ever heard from him. That didn't mean he was allowed to make the speeches though.

Their choreography was simple (because they had Finn), but uniform and it almost reminded Kurt of a more-complicated version of the Warblers. Clearly, Blaine was started to invade his thoughts more and more. However,

_**Here we go!  
>Stop! In the name of love, before you break my heart.<br>Think it over!**_

**I wear tight clothing, high heeled shoes.  
>It doesn't mean that I'm a prostitute, no, no.<strong>

_I like rap music, wear hip hop clothes.  
>That doesn't mean that I'm out sellin' dope, no, no.<em>

**Before you can read me you gotta  
>learn how to see me, I said:<strong>

_**Stop! In the name of love, before you break my heart.  
>Think it over!<br>Free your mind and the rest will follow.  
>Be color blind, don't be so shallow.<strong>_

_I've known of your, your secluded nights.  
>I've even seen her maybe once or twice.<br>But is her sweet expression  
>worth more than my love and affection?<em>

Coach Beiste had shown no reaction so far and that didn't change as Sam sang directly _to_ her, placing a hand on her shoulder even. Kurt worried for a moment that she didn't appreciate the song.

**Before you can read me you gotta  
>learn how to see me, I said:<strong>

_**Stop! In the name of love, before you break my heart.  
>Think it over!<br>Free your mind and the rest will follow.  
>Be color blind, don't be so shallow.<br>**_**Don't break my, don't break my**

_**Stop! Stop!**_** In the name of love****.**_**  
>Free your mind! Stop!<br>Free your mind!**_

**Before you can read me you gotta  
>learn how to see me, I said:<strong>

All the girls laughed and giggled along as the boys danced in front of them. Kurt was having a blast messing around with Mercedes until he realized that every other pairing was a couple, and his heart dropped a bit, allowing his professional performer to finish of the number with as much enthusiasm as he'd started it.

_**Stop! In the name of love, before you break my heart.  
>Free your mind!<strong>_** In the name of love!**_**  
>Before you break my heart,<br>oh, think it over!  
>Free your mind and the rest will stop!<strong>_

They ended circled around the coach with their arms extended and waited for her reaction amongst the cheers.

"It was really good," she said quietly, almost too softly to be heard over the girls. "I liked it," she said louder. "Thank you."

"Come here!" Artie flailed around with his arms, encouraging Beiste into a group hug. Kurt didn't join in. He could hang out with the boys and perform with them, but he wasn't quite one of them, and he knew that. Besides, it was the idiots that had been using her as a buzz kill and those that wanted her back for football that really needed to apologize. Kurt was just needed for the harmonies.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Poor Kurt, he was so abused in this episode :( But Never Been Kissed is done! This turned out to be quite a long chapter, but I know you guys don't mind. Next we start the Substitute! Wooh!**

**The song was**_ 'Stop! In the Name of Love/Free Your Mind'_ by The Supremes/En Vogue **in case you couldn't figure that out.** **Vocal Parts: Bold - **Artie or Finn, _Italics_ - Sam or Puck, **and **_**Bold Italics**__ - _All.

**Reviews are Love :)**


	4. Fingerprints

**A/N: So, I promised myself I wouldn't do this. I wouldn't make this story hard to understand without reading Meet the Warblers, that's what I swore to myself. However, I'm finding keeping that promise next-to-impossible, but I figure most of you readers are originally MTW readers, or have looked it up by now. Read On.**

* * *

><p>"Blaine!" Charlie yelled from down the hall, practically bouncing as he hurried through the other, calmer Dalton boys, undeterred by their stares. The flamboyant boy was <em>beaming<em>, which was never, _ever_ a good sign in Blaine's mind.

"Kill me now," Blaine murmured to himself, earning a grin from his locker neighbor. Quickly adjusting the picture he had just hung up, he went to slam his locker shut... in the futile hope that Charlie's fingers wouldn't magically appear where it's supposed to close.

"What don't you want me to see?" the boy who's fingers had almost been crushed asked. As annoyed as Blaine could get with Charlie sometime, he would never actually, intentionally break or damage all (or any) of his fingers.

"Nothing. I'd just like to be on time for class. However, you pull this charming routine so often that my teacher's accept 'Charlie got me' as a valid excuse for being tardy," Blaine said dryly.

"And that certainly says a lot about our friendship," Charlie said cheerily. Knocking Blaine sideways with his hip (only because the tenor had been caught unprepared could the scrawny boy push him), Charlie pulled open Blaine's locker.

"Charlie..." How exactly was Blaine supposed to explain the picture he had put in his locker of Kurt? Kurt meant the world to him in a way he wasn't accustomed to, and when he had came across a picture of him laughing and smiling (Mercedes, he assumed, was originally in the picture, but he had edited her out) the tenor had immediately printed a copy.

"Well that's creepy," Charlie snorted. "At least he's good-looking. Knowing you, he'd be some hideous nobody with red hair and lots of acne. Miracle upon miracles, you actually have good taste."

"I chose you, so clearly I don't." Charlie ignored the insult, plucking the now-framed picture out of his locker.

"He is _really_ good-looking. Damn, is he good-looking! Too bad twinks aren't my style, I'd be all over that. Which reminds me, why aren't you?" Charlie walked around in a random pattern as he spoke, still staring at the picture of Kurt, preventing Blaine from plucking the frame out of his hands as he'd been trying to. Both boys ignored the ringing of the bell.

"Charlie, we've already discussed this. Now, if you wouldn't mind, I'm missing the beginning of a class." Despite Blaine's annoyed voice and stance, he didn't make to move an inch.

"Yeah, yeah, 'mentor' shit. To be totally honest with everyone, including yourself, you're head over heels for him, and you know it." Charlie smirked as he pointed out what all the Warblers (after a riveting game of 'let's dig around Blaine's social life') considered the obvious.

"I'll say it again. We've already discussed this, and the information remains the same." Now Blaine moved to leave and Charlie didn't try to stop him.

"Fine! Be a brat! But guys like that don't stay single for long!" Charlie called after him, not sounding particularly upset or particularly amused, which were Charlie's two emotions.

"He's never even had a boyfriend," Blaine called back at a much more reasonable tone. The hallways were empty, and Dalton had great acoustics due to the old building. Honestly, Charlie was screaming.

"Hot damn." Blaine could hear him murmur thanks to the echo as he headed quickly to AP Government.

Walking in the door and cringing when he saw the clock (also glaring at Thad when he noticed there was no room in the circle for him), Blaine flashed Mr. Bressler a guilty look. "Sorry, Charlie got me."

"At least he didn't drag you off to a janitor's closet to have his wicked way with you," Mr. Bressler said easily, and he obviously wasn't mad. "That, pull up a chair for Blaine or you get detention for three weeks." Blaine couldn't entirely tell if the teacher was kidding or not.

Nevertheless, the boys in the room scooted back and Thad dragged over another desk with only the sharp reply of "it's _Thad!_"

* * *

><p>Kurt brushed his hair back from his forehead as the club waited for Mr. Schue to arrive. Thanks to a lovely blue slushy from Karofsky, his outfit was now less fabulous than it had been that morning, and he was sitting awkwardly between Puck and Mike, for heaven knew what Finn would say if he sat next to Sam.<p>

The whole club quieted respectfully as Mr. Schue came in. "Alright, guys, um..." Mr. Schue stuttered typically as he wrote _Sectionals!__ Gear Up!_ on the board. "It's time to start thinking about song selections."

Ignoring the teacher completely, Santana called out, "Looking good, Puckerman!"

Always quick with a counterattack, Quinn added, "Someone's been taking their steroids." With a little smirk at her burn, she curled into her perfect blonde boyfriend. Honestly, those two looked like brother and sister.

"These guns are fully loaded, no help, Q." Puck said, kissing his (grudgingly admirable) arms and brushing off Quinn's comment.

"Mr. Schue," Rachel started, and Kurt resisted the urge to groan, "I, for one, think we should use our set list for sectionals to start exploring the oeuvre of on Bernadette Peters."

"Someday, I'm gonna go to Paris and visit the _Oeuvre_," Brittany commented with a content little smile. Kurt normally found her little comments charming and funny, but at the moment he was aching to get out of school. He was meeting Blaine at the Lima Bean after school. Unfortunately, not as a date, but as a chance to talk.

"I just want to leave," Mike said under his breath, and Kurt agreed whole-heartedly.

"Mr. Schuester, you look a little green," Mercedes cut in, looking half-concerned and half-amused.

"Um, I think I'm gonna go see the nurse," Mr. Schuester said lethargically. "But first, I feel like I should get you guys a sitter." Kurt exchanged a look with Mercedes down the row. What the heck?

"Mr. Schuester, I'll gladly escort you to the nurse, I have some song ideas for Sectionals that you'll love," Rachel said excitedly, standing up and following Mr. Schuester out the door.

"Am I the only one that thinks Schue's gone off the deep end?" Puck asked, breaking the silence and making Santana laugh, clinging to him like a horny limpet. Ignoring the two who were trying their best to climb inside each others' mouths, and were subsequently sliding off of their chair, Kurt walked over to Mercedes, taking Rachel's now-vacant chair.

"So, I'm meeting Blaine after school today," he said, a smile spreading across his face without his permission. The countertenor was confident that nobody could hear him over the sudden burst of sound that had followed Puck's joke.

"Boy, Rachel's gonna go loca if she finds out about him," Mercedes commented, obviously enjoying that she knew something Rachel didn't.

"Do you think I'm crazy, 'Cedes? Why would I _ever_ tell her about Blaine?" Rachel would kill either kick him out of the club, or march straight to Dalton and kill Blaine.

"Well, if you two dance over the 'friend line,' telling her will be tempting. Plus, we all know she's scarily observant and has stalker eyes everywhere," Mercedes and Kurt both scoffed. "Just be careful, boo. And whatever you do, don't tell Finn."

"Yes, because I want his homophobic opinion on everything," Kurt scoffed again, and Mercedes frowned.

"Finn's been doing better," she tried to defend the leading man (whom, Kurt realized, was sitting right behind them. Oh well).

"You have no idea, chica. Adios." Kurt followed the steady stream of people leaving. Mercedes hurried after him upon realizing that she would be left alone with Puck and Santana once Kurt left.

"I get to meet him, you know that, right?" Mercedes glared him down.

"Of course."

* * *

><p>"So, naturally, Charlie douses everyone coming underneath the stairs with powdered sugar! We all looked like Abominable Snowmen, and the sugar didn't come out of <em>anyone's<em> hair for weeks!" Blaine finished the story and Kurt couldn't help but crack up.

"Charlie sounds like a madman," Kurt commented once he caught his breath.

"Oh, he is. He's also one of the most amazing people I've ever met in my life. He's just... rambunctious."

"Rambunctious?" Kurt asked disbelievingly. "I'm surprised he hasn't burned down your entire dorm."

"Well," Blaine said with a grin, "he's not allowed in the kitchen anymore."

"Do I want to know?" Kurt giggled.

"Probably not. It's quite horrifying, and you may never want to eat again. The stories I could tell you about that kitchen..." Blaine trailed off and shook his head.

"So all Dalton guys are crazy. Good to know." Kurt rolled his eyes, but couldn't help smiling.

"Hey! Not _all_ of us are crazy. Thad's perfectly normal, David and I are both charged with keeping Wes and Charlie, respectively, in line, and plenty of the Warblers are quiet and shy. You just hear about the craziest ones because they're the most interesting," Blaine defended his friends.

"I'm not entirely sure I believe you, Mr. Anderson," Kurt said with a little smirk, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah, you probably shouldn't," Blaine said with an impish expression, and Kurt almost choked on his coffee laughing. "Come on, share time. Most outrageous thing that's ever happened in _your_ club. This ought to be interesting!"

"Sadly, my club isn't as entertaining as it is... dramatic. It's possibly because we don't all live together. I assure you that if we did, we'd all be as crazy as Warblers... or kill each other," Kurt mused. Santana and Rachel would rip each other limb-from-limb, and Kurt wasn't sure whose side he'd be on.

"Oh, please. That much drama and not one funny story? No streaking? No food fights? Nothing?" Blaine looked pseudo-shocked, clearly amusing himself.

"No streaking... an unfortunate incident of Finn walking down the school hallway in his tighty-whities a couple of weeks ago, but no streaking. No food fights. Nothing," Kurt faked sadness as Blaine laughed.

"Somebody walking down the school hallway in their tighty-whities totally counts as a funny story. Can I get an explanation for the please?" Blaine choked out to question between fits of laughter, and Kurt obliged.

"We were doing _The Rocky Horror Show_ for our school musical." Already, Blaine's laughter had re-doubled.

"Please," gasp, "tell me," gasp, "you were Frank-n-Furter," Blaine tried to control his laughter.

"Do I seem like the type of guy that would strut in front of the school in a corset, panties, fishnet stockings, high heels, and make-up?" Blaine's response was simply a raised eyebrow. "Oh, who asked you."

"You did, three seconds ago," Blaine chuckled, finally getting control of himself.

"Do you want to hear the story or not?" Blaine mimed 'my lips are sealed,' and Kurt continued. "Finn was Brad, and feeling uncomfortable about stripping down after _Sweet Transvestite_, so he decided to do a... trial run, I suppose."

"And the teachers just _let _him?" Blaine looked truly shocked.

"Because teachers at McKinley _so_care," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes. "Sorry, that was probably catty of me, because our choral director's usually pretty good, even if he was acting a little unusual today, but most really don't care about any of the students."

"Why do I have a feeling we've reached full circle?" Blaine asked, and Kurt sighed. They had been talking about Kurt's bullying earlier, about the slushies and the dumpster. The only subject they had pointedly avoided was Karofsky.

"We have indeed, but that's too depressing a subject for me at the moment." Kurt frowned. "I can't believe we're competing in two weeks."

"I know," Blaine agreed, but he said it with a smile. "I'm sure Wes would kill me for saying this, but we don't even have a set list picked out."

"I'm sure Rachel would kill _both_ of us if she knew I said this, but we don't have a set list or costumes... I don't think we've ever sufficiently planned for a competition, and this year will be no different." Perhaps if they had a better director it would be different, but not now.

"Don't worry, we're going to crush you anyway," Blaine said with a little smirk.

"Oh, it is so on," Kurt replied with the same smirk.

"I should go, I have an AP Government project to work on. Come over to my house later tomorrow?" Blaine asked with a little smile, and Kurt couldn't refuse him.

"Of course. 5?"

"Perfect. We'll have dinner."

* * *

><p><em>Me.<em> was what Rachel wrote on the board. Oh GaGa, where is Mr. Schue?

"Class, in Mr. Schuester's absence," oh boy, "I'd like to go around and ask everyone what solos they'd like the hear _me_ perform at Sectionals." There was a beat of silence following Rachel's words.

"All right! You know what? Let me at her! ¡Tú eres loca!" Santana screamed, trying to get at Rachel and barely being held back by Sam's arms around her waist and Mercedes grabbing at her arm. Kurt pretended to be horrified (well, he was a little surprise), but was actually feeling extremely satisfied at Rachel's scream.

At that point, Rachel ran out of the room. It took over 10 minutes to calm Santana, and there was a slight bitch fit from Quinn at Sam touching Santana 'inappropriately.' Most of the club slipped away to normal lunch at this point.

"I am shaking, and it's either from low blood sugar or rage. I knew it was only a matter of time before Rachel tried to take over the Glee club," Kurt seethed at Mercedes as they waited in the lunch line.

"We'll forget all about it tonight at bowling," Mercedes sounded resigned to Rachel's craziness. Bowling. Shoot. He had totally forgotten about bowling.

"I can't. Blaine asked me to hang out." How had he completely forgotten about his best girl? But Blaine was so cute, and they were having _dinner_, and.. he should cancel, shouldn't he?

"I've been looking forward to it all week." He should _really_ cancel. "Wait, are you two going out? Because I think you need to come clean."

"No, what? No. I don't want another Jesse-Rachel traitor scenario to overcome." Two weeks until Sectionals was said and done. "Please, Mercedes. Mum's the word."

"We'll be happy for you. We know how lonely you've been." What caused this sudden change? First, Mercedes told him not to tell Rachel about Blaine at all, now she was convinced that the club would be happy if he was dating the competition?

"Hey, we just hang out. Nothing about Glee Club even ever comes up." Well, most of the time, but it wasn't something that could be used against them, and Blaine started it. "It's just nice to have someone to talk to."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Mercedes quickly, obviously offended.

"It means someone like me," Kurt answered quickly, going over towards the salad bar. "But I promise to make it up to you. We'll hang out Friday night." And he would remember this time. He would. He would. 'I do believe in fairies. I do. I do.'

"'Scuse you," Mercedes pushed her way towards the tater tots. "Watch out."

"She's just hungry," Kurt apologized to the girl Mercedes had nudged out of the way.

"Whoa, whoa. Couple more. Thanks." Mercedes should really stop feeding that unhealthy love of tater tots. "So, what are we gonna do about Glee Club while Mr. Schue is sick?"

"I have an idea. Have you met the new Spanish teacher?" Kurt said with a little smile, and Mercedes shook her head. "She subbed for one of my English classes. She's unique, stylish, and that woman can _sing_. She's the exact opposite of Mr. Schue, and that might be just what we need."

"Are you sure this is a good idea? Rachel might try to send her to a crack-house." Kurt chuckled at Mercedes' joke, making a mental note to tell Blaine that story at dinner tonight.

"I can fend off Rachel. Plus, the rest of the club will love her. She's open to suggestions from the students, no more Journey, and she likes doing off-the-wall, completely random things. It's like she never fully grew up. Rachel will loathe her, and everyone else will love her. It's perfect." Kurt led Mercedes to a table before she could buy anymore unhealthy food.

* * *

><p>"Cinco veces. Cinco!" Miss Holiday was saying as Kurt walked into the room, remembering to knock politely on the doorframe first.<p>

"Excuse me. Miss Holiday, a word?" he asked, ignoring the surprised looks from Finn and Puck.

"Por favor, se convierten en grupos y discutir las veces que Lindsay Lohan ha estado en rehabilitación." Kurt almost laughed at their topic. "¿Que puedo ayudarte en algo?" For a second, Kurt debated talking with her entirely in Spanish, then realized she probably wasn't fluent.

"I understand that you are subbing for Mr. Schuester's Spanish class and I was wondering if you might not want to take over his Glee Club duties as well." Please, please, take over his Glee Club duties.

"What makes you think I know the first thing about Glee Club?" Kurt wondered why Miss Holiday looked upset.

"You subbed for my English class last week, and you were extraordinary," Kurt praised, making the teacher smile and shrug modestly. "Miss Holiday, we are floundering. Won't you please take over Glee Club?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Miss Holiday said, giving Kurt a small smirk.

"Yay!" Kurt said, before he could contain it. "Muchas gracias."

* * *

><p>"Nothing says <em>bienvenidos<em> quite like a buttered floor." In retrospect, Miss Holiday's words should have been warning enough. However, Kurt took quite a tumble, falling flat on his head. He could hear Santana snickering as Puck looked down on him. "Let's start with some introductions. My name is Holly Holiday. What's yours? Go!"

"I'm Finn Hudson. I'm quarterback of the football team," Puck said, taking on a rather dim expression. Thanks for the help up, superstars.

"I'm Rachel Berry, his loud, loud girlfriend," Santana offered.

"I'm Mike Chang," Brittany tried in her normal voice.

"Those aren't your names. You know why I know that?" Miss Holiday asked, obviously still smirking.

"You're psychic."

"I know this," Miss Holiday ignored her, "because I recently watched a video of you guys performing at Regionals where you came in last. Maybe it's because the songs were about 30 years old, but-" Finn cut her off with his typical defense of classic rock.

"Those songs are classics."

"Those songs are amazing, but they sounded like somebody else's favorite songs, not yours." Miss Holiday clicked her tongue. "Just saying."

"She speaks the truth," Britt commented in the same lost tone as always.

"I'm not your average, run-of-the-mill substitute teacher. I want you guys to do things that _you_ want to do. I want you to have fun in our fabulous but fleeting time together. What do you say we have class outside today?" Miss Holiday asked, obviously trying to win the clubs approval.

"It's raining outside." Stop being such a downer, Mercedes, considering you were part of this idea.

"Then let's take a field trip to Taco Bell," Miss Holiday suggested. That got her cheers. "Should we toke up some medical-grade marijuana? I wish." Laughter.

"It's really hard not to like this woman." The comment was probably for Puck, but it just confirmed Kurt's suspicions. Miss Holiday was exactly what they needed.

"Okay. No, we can't just goof off all day." It's really hard to like that woman. "We have to write a set list for Sectionals."

"You're right. What songs would you like to do?" Silence. Even from Rachel, usually so full of ideas. It was shocking. "Oh. Don't get asked that question much, do we?"

"Miss Holiday's right," Kurt spoke up for the first time. "Mr. Schuester's set list sometimes seems like he hasn't listened to the radio since the '80s." Kurt went down to sit with the club.

"He never listens to what I have to say." Kurt rolled his eyes, knowing that Puck was thinking of his request to sing _Fuck You_. The concept wasn't horrible, but the vocals made Kurt cringe every time, especially near the bridge. "I wanted to do _Fuck You_."

"Cee Lo! Thanks what I'm talkin' about," Puck grinned at the teacher in his usual manner.

"Excuse me," Santana interjected, probably jealous that Puck liked her. "What would _you_ know about Cee Lo? 'Cause you're like 40."

"Top 40, sweet cheeks. Hit it!" Miss Sylvester called to the surprised band.

_I see you drivin' 'round town with the guy I love  
>And I'm like, forget you<br>I guess the change in my pocket wasn't enough  
>I'm like, forget you.<em>

_Yeah I'm sorry, I can't afford a Ferrari  
>But that don't mean I can't get you there<br>I guess she's an Xbox and I'm more an Atari  
>Hmm, but the way you play your game ain't fair<em>

_I pity fool that falls in love with you  
>Ooh, she's a gold digger, just thought you should know<br>Ooh, I got some news for you  
>Yeah! Go run and tell your little girlfriend<em>

_I see you drivin' 'round town with the guy I love  
>And I'm like, forget you<br>I guess the change in my pocket wasn't enough  
>I'm like, forget you and forget her too<em>

_Said, if I was richer I'd still be with ya  
>Now ain't that some shh (ain't that some shh)<br>Now though there's pain in my chest  
>I still wish you the best<br>With a.. forget you!_

_Now baby, baby, baby why'd you wanna, wanna hurt me so  
>bad (so bad) so bad (so bad)<br>I tried to tell my momma but she told me this is one  
>for your dad (your dad, your dad)<br>Yes she did, Yes she did_

_(Ooh) Why?_  
><em>(Ooh) Why?<em>  
><em>(Ooh) Why, baby?<em>  
><em>(Ooh!) I love you! I still love you! Hey!<br>_

_I see you drivin' 'round town with the guy I love  
>And I'm like, forget you (forget you oh yeah)<br>I guess the change in my pocket wasn't enough  
>I'm like, forget you and forget him too<br>_

_Said, if I was richer I'd still be with ya  
>Huh, now ain't that some shh (ain't that some shh)<br>Although there's pain in my chest  
>I still wish you the best (wish you the best)<br>With a.. forget you! Oooh_

While Miss Holiday was singing and winning over the club, Kurt decided. This was his new theme song. Forget Karofsky, forget Finn, forget his bullies. He was going to be happy, no matter what.

"Let's go get some Tacos! Yeah!" Miss Holiday yelled over the cheering, and the club followed her dutifully.

* * *

><p>"Oh my God," Kurt breathed. He had followed Blaine's directions all the way to Westerville, singing along with <em>Wicked, Evita, <em>and _Funny Girl_ as he drove, and he had arrived... at two huge, wrought-iron gates with a gold 'A' stamped in the middle. There was an intercom. A freakin' _intercom_! Kurt leaned forward to press the button. "Uh, Blaine?"

"_Oh, hey Kurt. Sorry, I meant to open the gates, but it totally slipped my mind. One sec._" That was definitely Blaine's voice, but... Blaine's house had _gates_? Clearly, Blaine had neglected to warn him of a few things. Kurt jumped about a foot and banged his elbow against the horn as the gates swung open. "_Rude. Come on in._"

Kurt drove up the path, feeling like he was entering a fantasy, or a nightmare. There were dark forests surrounding the drive up to Blaine's house... or Blaine's _mansion,_ more accurately. The house honestly looked like something out of _Clueless_, huge and white with columns. There, sitting on the front steps, was his very down-to-earth friend, in blue jeans and a hunter green shirt, looking completely out of place. "Oh, my God," Kurt repeated again under his breath.

Parking the Navigator, Kurt got out, feeling very inferior to the house at the moment in his white Armani skinny jeans and lilac Versace sweater. "Kurt!" Blaine's face lit up and he ran over to hug the countertenor. "Hey!"

"Your house." Kurt probably should have been embarrassed by his obvious statement, but sweet McQueen, his _house_!

"Yeah, I know, it's a little.. much, but my mom always wanted to have a big house like this, and my dad can't refuse her anything. It's certainly more than enough room for the five of us," Blaine sounded completely unimpressed by the mansion that was towering behind him. "Come on, let's get out of the rain."

"All right." Kurt followed blindly, still in awe of the house.

"Make yourself at home," Blaine invited as he pulled Kurt into the foyer. An actual, straight-out-of-a-movie _foyer_. Holy Jacobs.

"Oh my God." Kurt mentally wondered how many times he was going to say that tonight. For the record, even the _foyer_ was huge, decorated all in wood and gold, with two staircases twirling in opposite directions framing the open entrance to the living room.

"Yeah, like I said, it's a little much. Uh, the dining room is right over there," Blaine pointed to one of the doors to the sides that Kurt hadn't even noticed. "Well, we could eat in the sunroom, or up by the balcony, whatever you prefer." Taking in Kurt's gaping, Blaine added, "Unless you'd like a tour..."

"Yes!" Kurt immediatly jumped on the offer. "I, uh, mean, yes, please, that would be nice." The countertenor was sure his face was a lovely shade of fire-engine red.

"It's fine," Blaine said with a chuckle. "Big house. Come on," he added, dragging Kurt excitedly up one of the huge staircases.

* * *

><p>"And this is my room. I have to say, it doesn't quite measure up with the rest of the house," Blaine warned him, opening the door. Kurt was surprised. It was just... a room. A typical bedroom. Of course, the bed was <em>enormous<em> and a four-poster, and he could see a fireplace in the _bathroom_, but it was just a room.

"It's just a room," Kurt repeated his thought dumbly.

"Uh, that's what I meant," Blaine shifted a little uncomfortably. "I meant to clean it up a little, but I forgot."

"Like with the gates?" Kurt asked, letting a smile twitch at the corner of his mouth as he took the room in. Ignoring the un-made four-poster, there was a door on the opposite side of the room from the bathroom, presumably a closet that would make even _Kurt_ jealous. There were some clothes hastily thrown in front of the door, almost near the hamper to one side of it. There was a flatscreen right near the door, at a comfortable viewing distance from the bed. The walls to both sides of the bathroom door were bookshelves practically overflowing. Kurt caught sight of the familiar _Harry Potter and the Dealthy Hallows_ spine, as well as a stack of comic books.

"Just like with the gates," Blaine replied at last, breaking Kurt from his trance.

"Harry Potter?" he asked, heading for the bookshelves. "I love Harry Potter," Kurt admitted.

"Me too!" Blaine said, much less shy.

"You even look a bit like him," the countertenor teased, holding the book near his head as though making a comparison.

"So, I've been told," Blaine said smugly, making Kurt giggle.

"Could there possibly be any more rooms left in your house for me to see?" Kurt asked, before he stumbled on something way too personal in here.

"Oh, plenty. Come on," Blaine led him out of the bedroom, painted almost exactly the same color as his shirt and decorated in dark woods.

"Hey, you match your walls," Kurt commented, grinning at his friend.

"Oh, shush."

* * *

><p>"Did you make this?" Kurt asked, shocked, looking out at the foods he couldn't name if he tried.<p>

"God, no," Blaine laughed. "No, no, I had our cook make us something special." They had decided to eat by the balcony, which was about the prettiest place in the house this time of night, or so Blaine had told him.

"You have a cook?" Kurt asked, though he honestly shouldn't be surprised at this point, after having seen the fruit of Blaine's parents' wealth.

"Don't judge me," Blaine replied, pulling Kurt's chair out for him with a dramatic flourish.

"What a gentleman," Kurt half-joked. To be honest, he thought it was incredibly sweet of his friend, but saying that would sound like flirting.

"Only for you. I'm an ass ninety-nine percent of the time," Blaine teased, making Kurt laugh.

"I thought of a half-funny, half-horrible story for you, direct from Mercedes' mouth." Kurt had remembered that he planned to tell Blaine this story.

"Do tell. I knew your club had some shenanigans. Between Rachel and Finn, how could it not?" Blaine rolled his eyes at Kurt's tales of his friends, pretty much embodying how Kurt felt about them 99% of the time.

"We had been working on recruiting new members. There was this amazingly-talented girl, Sunshine Corazon-" Blaine cut him off.

"The new lead of Vocal Adrenaline? She went to McKinley?" At Kurt's glare, Blaine locked his lips and threw away the key.

"We're getting to that part. Sunshine went to McKinley for a short time, and she wanted to be a part of the New Directions-" Blaine interrupted again, unlocking his lips for a moment.

"I'm super glad she didn't." Once again, Blaine locked his lips at Kurt's glare.

"However," Kurt simply continued where he had left off this time, "Rachel doesn't like having people more talented than she is around, and she told Sunshine the auditions were _at a crack house!_" Blaine cracked up perfectly in sync with Kurt.

"That's horrible!" Blaine exclaimed, still laughing.

"I know right. She auditioned and got it, obviously, but Goolsy managed to steal her away because Sunshine, accurately, believed that Rachel would make her life a living hell in the New Directions." Kurt rolled his eyes at Rachel's antics.

"I knew you were all crazy. I knew it, I knew it!" Blaine exclaimed. The tenor paused for a moment, then slyly said, "Speaking of talent, I've never heard you sing."

"Ah, ah, ah. We're competition, remember?" Kurt deflected.

"But you've heard _me_ sing, which means you know pretty accurately how good we're going to be at Sectionals. It's only fair," Blaine wheedled, giving Kurt that irresistably-adorable pout.

"I hate to break it to you, but not only have I not told anyone how good you are, but the likelihood of me getting a solo for Sectionals is the likelihood of Karofsky coming out of the closet tomorrow. Hearing me sing isn't going to help you at all," Kurt countered.

"Which is exactly why you should sing something for me. It doesn't give either of usan advantage," Blaine coerced, and Kurt caved.

"Fine. Um... I don't know what to sing," Kurt admitted. He didn't do well being put on the spot.

"Well, _I_ sang Katy Perry for _you_, so _you _should sing Katy Perry for _me_," Blaine suggested, tucking his hands underneath his chin and looking for all the world like a very patient puppy.

_Voted most likely to end up on the back of a milk box drink  
>Looks like I'm letting them down<br>Cause seven, seventy-five isn't worth an hour of my hard work and time  
>When you can't afford half the shit they advertise<em>

_Oh I'm worth more then they ask for then the toe-tag generation full of regret  
>Oh I won't settle no, oh I can't settle<br>I wanna break the mold, I wanna break the stereotype  
>Fist in the air I'm not going down with out a fight<em>

_It's my life and I'm not sitting on the sidelines watching  
>It pass me by<br>I'm leaving you my legacy  
><em>

_I gotta make my mark  
>I gotta run it hard<br>I want you to remember me_

_I'm leaving my fingerprints  
>I'm leaving my fingerprints<br>I'm leaving my fingerprints on you_

_Representing you and me  
>Don't you wanna go down in history?<br>Rather then end up begging on the streets  
>Trading under table favors for a place to sleep<em>

_Cause I'm worth more then this  
>so stop writing prescriptions for my Ritalin<br>I can't focus my attention  
>I wanna break the mold, I wanna break the stereotype<br>Fist in the air, I'm not going down with out a fight_

_It's my life and I'm not sitting on the sidelines watching  
>It pass me by<br>I'm leaving you my legacy_

_I gotta make my mark  
>I gotta run it hard<br>I want you to remember me_

_I'm leaving my fingerprints  
>I'm leaving my fingerprints<br>_

_Don't give up  
>Don't give in<br>Build your house on the rock  
>Oh not in the sand, in the sand, in the sand<em>

_It's my life and I'm not sitting on the sidelines watching  
>It pass me by<br>I'm leaving you my legacy_

_I gotta make my mark  
>I gotta run it hard<br>I want you to remember me  
>(I want you to remember me)<em>

_It's my life and I'm not sitting on the sidelines watching  
>It pass me by<br>I'm leaving you my legacy_

_I gotta make my mark  
>I gotta run it hard<br>I want you to remember me_

_Cause I'm leaving my fingerprints  
>I'm leaving my fingerprints<br>I'm leaving my fingerprints, in the end_

Blaine was silent. Completely silent. "It's, uh, not my usual type of music, but you said Katy Perry, so..." Kurt trailed off, keeping his feet firmly trained on his shoes.

"Your voice is incredible." Blaine talked in the same breathy tone Kurt had when he saw Blaine's house. "I've never heard anybody sing like that. Wow." Blaine blinked, seeming to regain his composure. "How do you not get all the solos? If they showcased you, the New Directions would have every competition in the bag."

"Well, unfortunately, our choral director only cares for Finn and Rachel. Nobody else has had a solo in competition. Nobody, unlesss you count Mercedes belting out the last few notes. It's infuriating."

"Well, that's just idiocy, because you are quite possibly the most talented person I've ever met," Blaine sounded blown away again, and Kurt blushed.

"Thank you," he said with a slight smile, trying to catch his breath as Blaine stared right into his eyes.

"Well, I suppose you should return to your overprotective father." Blaine looked away and the spell was broken.

"Yeah. This was really nice of you Blaine, thanks. You should probably show me out, or I may be lost in the passageways of your house forever," Kurt joked, thinking that might not be such a bad existence.

"What a shame that would be. At least I would have stolen a vocal powerhouse from my competition." Blaine showed him out anyway, giving him a quick hug in the foyer and turning on the light so Kurt could reach his car.

The door was closed and Blaine was out of sight by the time Kurt had reached his car and looked back. Kurt revved up, turned around, and the light went out. So Blaine _was_ watching. Kurt smiled, feeling a little bit love-struck. The dinner wasn't a date, but it was the best date he'd ever had.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm super sorry for the long break in updates. I promise this will get better, I'm still adjusting to my new courses. I should get a lot done during the hiatus. Promise. Not a super-lot of Klaine in this one, but set-up and fluff is necessary.  
><strong>

**Songs used:**_  
>'Forget You'<em> by Glee Cast (duh)_  
>'Fingerprints'<em> by Katy Perry (also duh)

**Reviews are Love.**


	5. Tots, RENT and Gansta Rap Musical Chairs

**A/N: Survey says: I did not get a lot done during the hiatus. I'm sorry! Please forgive me my lovies.**

* * *

><p>"Hey, dad," Kurt greeted his father with the usual bang of the door and wave, planning to immediately head down to his basement. Considering that he'd had Glee until three, he'd had to leave at three to get to Blaine's house at 5, and back from Blaine's house was two hours, he'd arrived home at almost nine o'clock. Not only did he need his eight hours, but he did have homework, as little as he got at McKinley compared to the books he'd seen spread across Blaine's desk.<p>

"You're in a good mood." Kurt almost groaned at the fact that this would be an actual conversation. He also realized he didn't have a good cover-up for where he had been. "Where've you been?" Of course.

"Mercedes'. Our substitute for Glee, Miss Holiday, is allowing us a little bit of freedom as far as the set list goes, so we were practicing a duet that we think is good enough for Sectionals." Kurt perched lightly on the couch near his dad, so ready for the conversation to end.

"Kurt, I'll ask you again. Where have you been? You don't spend six hours at Mercedes' practicing a duet. I'm not that strict with you, kid, but you have to be honest with me." Uh-oh.

"I was hanging out with a friend. The only reason it took so long is because middle ground is pretty far from here." Well, Blaine's house probably didn't count as middle ground, considering his school was only twenty minutes away, but his dad _really_ wouldn't be happy to know about Blaine.

"What kind of friend?" his dad turned to him with a rather suspicious look as he asked. Kurt _had_ told him to be more involved in his life... that had just come back to bite him in the butt.

"A guy," Kurt admitted. "He goes to one of the schools we're competing against for Sectionals, and I met him at... a showcase." His lies would sound so much better if he wasn't trying to think them up on the fly.

"I don't remember being invited to a showcase." Burt's eyebrow raised suspiciously as he looked at his son.

"We didn't have one this year. It was a Dalton Academy showcase." It wasn't exactly a lie. Their talent was showcased... it just wasn't public.

"Well, I'm glad you met someone new. So, uh, is this boy... y'know, like you?" Kurt smiled a little bit. His dad really did try to connect with him.

"Yes, but we're just friends. He's nice, _really_ nice actually, but heaven knows we don't need another Rachel and Jesse traitor scenario." Kurt rolled his eyes. Only Rachel would manage to screw herself that badly.

"Well, I'm glad you have someone to... talk to, I guess." Burt looked kind of uncomfortable, but he was trying, and Kurt had to love him for that.

"Speaking of talking, there's something I've been wanting to talk to you about." The idea had been dangling on the edge of Kurt's mind, but he hadn't found the perfect time to bring it up. If there was ever a moment that needed a subject change, it was this one.

"Shoot." If anything, his dad looked more uncomfortable, probably thinking Kurt was trying to talk to him about guys. Kurt had mentally made himself a promise _never_ to talk to his dad about guys if he could help it.

"Blaine, my friend, goes to Dalton Academy. It's pretty far away from here, and it's a really well-respected boarding school with an zero-tolerance bullying policy. I was wondering..." Kurt looked away from his dad as he said this. He didn't want to get away from his family, but he thought Dalton would be a good thing for him. "I was wondering if that could be a possibility... for me, I mean."

Meeting his dad's eyes, he was met with a kind of fury he wasn't used to. "Are those assholes giving you a hard time again?" Kurt mentally breathed a sigh of relief at the source of his dad's anger... as odd as that sounded.

"No more than usual. I just... I was kind of hoping that... Going there would be good for me, Dad. All the Warblers, er, students I met, they're nice, totally accepting guys." Well, the three of them he had talked to anyway.

"I'll look into it, buddy." Kurt couldn't help but squeal and wrap his arms around his dad's shoulders in a hug. "Anything to make you happy." Once Kurt had let go and was off the couch, headed for his basement, Burt asked, "This sudden want to transfer... does it have anything to do with this Blaine kid?"

Kurt froze, formulating an answer as he turned to face his dad. The truth: of course. His answer: "Blaine and I are just friends, Dad."

"All right, kiddo." His dad's expression was a perfect poker face, and Kurt had no way of knowing what he was thinking.

* * *

><p>Kurt was rubbing Creme de La Mer on his face to complete his routine when his phone buzzed. Ignoring it for his skin, it continued to vibrate until it hopped off his vanity, forcing him to get up and answer it.<p>

"Hello?" His tone, perhaps, wasn't very friendly, but they'd interrupted his moisturizing routine, and that was not acceptable, no matter who it was!

"Hey. Sorry to call you so late, and I hope I didn't wake you up, but I forgot to mention something to you where you were here." Okay, maybe it was acceptable for _Blaine_ to interrupt his moisturizing routine... but just this once.

"It's fine. I was perfectly and marvelously awake." Technically, he had been readying himself for bed, but Blaine seemed to be the exception to his every rule.

"Well, get to bed then." Blaine smile was obvious, even over the phone. "Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I got us some tickets to _RENT_, they're performing it at Community Playhouse, with Greg Evigan, and I thought you might like to see it with me."

"I'd love to." So, maybe Kurt's voice was a little breathy on that last sentence, but this _had_ to be a date, right? Two weeks wasn't that big a deal in the grand scheme of things, and they wouldn't make it public until after Sectionals.

"Friday, at 8?" Blaine's voice sounded as excited as a seven-year-old in a candy store.

"I'll see you then." At one of the most romantic Broadway musicals of the current time, that happened to feature a gay couple, and a well-loved gay duet with included countertenor. It was the perfect date, and it _had_ to be a date, right?

"Get to bed, you hooligan. See ya. Goodnight." Kurt didn't get a chance to return the sentiment before Blaine hung up on him.

Friday. _RENT_. At eight. Possibly the most amazingly planned date ever. Kurt couldn't wait.

* * *

><p>The temptation to skip and hum and dance around like an idiot was one that he had succumbed to in his own home (well, in his bedroom. His dad would be even <em>more<em> suspicious if he acted like that), but he could never do that at school. Still, he couldn't keep the smile off of his face all day, and by the time lunch came around (the first time he got to talk to his best girl), he was _dying_ to tell someone about his almost-but-not-quite-a-date date with Blaine.

"Oh, we have to get there early on Friday. It's league night for little people, and they'll buy up all the small shoes if they get there first." Oh, f***. Kurt never swore, not out loud, but this called for it. _RENT _with Blaine vs. Shopping withe Mercedes. The ultimate ultimatum.

"Oh, I totally forgot. Greg Evigan is starring in _RENT_ at the Community Playhouse and Blaine got us tickets." He couldn't cancel on that. That was just rude, but canceling on Mercedes two times in a row? Especially when _he_ had made the plans? He was such a bad friend, but Blaine and he were going on a _date_... he hoped

"'Us' as in 'all of us'?" Mercedes asked. Shoot, he completely could have asked if Blaine had or could get an extra ticket. Maybe he still could, Kurt thought, and that brightened up his mood immediately.

"I think he could only score two." The look Mercedes was giving him right then made his stomach drop. Why did Blaine seem to transcend everything?

Thankfully, as if she was his snarky, Latin angel, Santana appeared and whisked away Mercedes' precious tots. Principal Sylvester, he assumed, was making some sort of health strike. Though Mercedes would kill him for saying so (possibly extremely violently, considering she was already mad at him), he approved.

Santana tossing the tots from their bar in the garbage along with more Cheerios throwing away the tots already on people's trays seemed to be Mercedes' breaking point. "Wait, where do you think you're going with those?"

"Principal Sue banned the tots." Just the tots? Drat it.

"She can't do that!" Actually, Mercedes, she can, and she did, bless her.

"They look like deep-fried deer poop." If he'd ever had a wish to eat deep-fried fat designed to go straight to the ass, Brittany's comment flame-torched it.

"Take it up with Principal Sue," Santana suggested. Good Prada, this would not end well.

"I'll get you some..." Kurt knew the best way to appease his girl was to offer to get her some Cool Ranch Dorritos, her second favorite junk food, but Mercedes' hand cut his offer flat. Her face was angry and she scoffed. "Okay," he whispered in acquiescence, not wanting to make her any angrier.

* * *

><p>"Gangsta rap musical chairs!" Miss Holiday announced as people filed in for the after school Glee club rehearsal. For once, their director was actually the first one there.<p>

"Miss Holiday, I have to protest. Rap isn't really music, and it certainly isn't anything we should be attempting in Glee club. I hate stereotypes, especially those against gay men," Kurt avoided Rachel's look at him as she said this, "but, to be completely honest-"

"Lesbihonest," Puck interrupted, and Miss Holiday slapped him a high five.

"Most tolerable rap is done by African-American men, one of which we no longer have, and this exercise is therefore a waste of time." Rachel didn't sit down as she finished her spiel, instead trying to stare down an uncaring Miss Holiday.

"Rachel, we all know that attitude means you can't rap. Be prepared to _lose_!" Miss Holiday said with a swish of her colorful skirt, and the boys behind him (Puck and Finn, he would guess) cheered 'yeah!'

Make a circle with the chairs. 1, 2, 3, 4, 11 chairs." Puck and Finn sprung up to do exactly this.

"Uh, Miss Holiday, as cool as your idea seems, I can't really," Artie gestured to his wheelchair.

"I understand, Artie, you can totally sit out," Miss Holiday said, sounding one hundred percent sympathetic. "Or..." sympathy gone, "you could always use the fact that you can run over people as your advantage and simply knock whatever chair you want out of the way," Miss Holiday proposed, grinning as Artie grinned and slapped her a high five.

"Rachel, just give it up," Kurt whispered to their diva as she opened her mouth to say... something. "The club loves her."

"All right, let's go!" Miss Holiday slapped a hand on her iPod speakers to begin the game.

_Baby, you my everything, you all I ever wanted  
>We can do it real big, bigger than you ever done it<br>You be up on everything, other hoes ain't never on it  
>I want this forever, I swear I can spend whatever on it<em>

_'Cause she hold me down every time I hit her up  
>When I get right I promise that we gonna live it up<br>She make me beg for it till she give it up  
>And I say the same thing every single time<em>

_I say you da, you da best, you da, you da best_

Miss Holiday stopped the music, and the madness began. Quinn was the one who ended up on her butt outside the circle, somehow. Honestly, all Kurt had seen was flying elbows and Artie trying to maul Puck's toes, and his butt had ended up in a seat. That's all he cared about.

"Sorry, Quinnilla, looks like your time is up!" Miss Holiday grinned at the affronted-looking Cheerio, who dragged away the eleventh chair. "I'd move out of the way, if I were you."

_Tonight's the night (Hey!)  
>Let's live it up (Let's live it up)<br>I got my money (I'm paid)  
>Let's spend it up (Let's spend it up)<em>

_Go out and smash it (Smash it)  
>Like Oh My God (Like Oh My God)<br>Jump off that sofa (C'mon)  
>Let's get get OFF<em>

_Fill up my cup (Drank)  
>Mozoltov (La' Chaim)<br>Look at her dancing (Move it Move it)  
>Just take it off <em>

There was a scream this time as the music went off, and Puck ended up on the floor as Artie pushed his chair out from under him, taking the open spot.

"And here I thought you had _game_, Puckerman." Miss Holiday pretended to be disappointed, starting the music before Puck even had the chance to drag a chair away, disrupting the circle and resulting in a very disgruntled Mercedes.

The game continued in this way for quite a while. Kurt allowed Finn to push him out of the way during Round 6, and he ended up being the only person to lose with dignity.

The best round was Round 9. Apparently, if Rachel was forced to play in a game that she considered a waste of time, she _still_ had to be the best at it. This determination resulted in her doing a flying leap over Artie to grab one of the last chairs, which Santana pushed out of the way, causing Rachel to land on the ground with a thump, and Artie to run over one of her flailing feet. They had to stop at that point for a few minutes because everyone was laughing hysterically, even Miss Holiday.

"Mercedes!" Kurt called out at the end of rehearsal, sliding in between Puck and Artie, who were chatting quite normally, to try and catch up to his still-mad best girl. "I have a way to make it up to you!" Mercedes stopped then.

"Oh, really?" Mercedes voice was in full-sass mode, which was never good.

"I want you to come to dinner with us, on Saturday. I know that it isn't the same as coming to _RENT_ with us, and I am sorry, but I really want you to meet him." Kurt gave his best friend his killer puppy-dog eyes, the one that made her melt every time.

"Fine, but you best listen to my opinion, white boy!" Mercedes teased, and they were back to their usual banter.

"Of course! If he doesn't have the seal of approval from my best girl, he means nothing to me," Kurt mock-swore, placing his hand on his heart.

"That's B.S., and you know it." The two best friends giggled as they left the rehearsal together, knocking hips as always.

* * *

><p>"You want me to meet Mercedes?" Blaine sounded shocked, and almost... nervous. Kurt rolled his eyes at his friend before remembering that Blaine couldn't see him.<p>

Talking on the phone had become a nightly ritual for them, and Kurt couldn't say he didn't love it. He got to hear Blaine's crazy stories about his Dalton friends, and tell in return the madness happening under Miss Holiday's watch. Blaine hadn't been able to regain his composure for about five minutes after hearing about 'gangsta rap musical chairs'.

"Of course I do. She's my best friend, and she's been dying to meet you. I'm pretty sure she's feeling abandoned," Kurt admitted to Blaine, knowing the other boy had given him nothing but good advice so far.

"She'll meet me at Sectionals." Apparently, nerves canceled out Blaine's ability to tell when he was feeling down and always say the right thing. Of course, Kurt's enamored brain found it cute rather than annoying.

"One completely supervised dinner. She's not going to kill you! I swear, she's not a forth as crazy as Rachel." Mercedes would love Blaine, they had everything in common.

"Somehow, that doesn't assuage my fears. Perhaps if you had said 'one hundredth' instead of 'one forth,' because I have a feeling one forth of Rachel's crazy is enough for several normal people." Kurt laughed at his friend's statement only because it was true.

"You're probably right, but I can keep her in line, I swear. If I can prevent Rachel from going all 'The Zodiac' on Miss Holiday, I can keep Mercedes from killing you to retain the role as my best friend." Kurt couldn't think of an adequate murder reference for a student killing a teacher off the top of his head, so he decided to go with an uncaught maniac who killed people in a variety of ways.

"I'm not entirely sure I believe you, but I'm willing to risk it for you." Kurt internally groaned at one of Blaine's half-flirts, even though a part of him was leaping for joy at Blaine's statement.

"So be it. Saturday night. Meet us at Breadsticks at 7." Seven was a decent time to eat. _Lady is a Tramp_ references aside, Kurt hoped it would please all parties.

"Breadsticks?" It was so easy to forget that Blaine lived in an entirely different world from what he was used to.

"The only restaurant in the country that is legally required to keep bringing you free bread sticks until you leave or vomit. Since two of the three parties are from Lima, it's only fair that we dine closer to Lima."

"So be it. I will meet you at this mysterious 'Breadsticks' at seven Saturday." A pause. "I bet their bread sticks suck." Kurt couldn't help but laugh.

"They really do. I'll see you then." Maybe by Saturday Kurt could introduce Blaine to Mercedes as his boyfriend. The mere thought sent a little whirlwind of butterflies through his stomach. _Boyfriend_. Such a lovely word.

"Goodnight, Kurt."

* * *

><p>"Look at this crap. Foam fish sticks? Principal Sylvester is only serving predigested food now, to give us more energy. I mean, do I look like a dam baby bird?" Mercedes' first words to him all day had to be about food.<p>

Kurt had spent most of the morning trailing a very hunky football player in an attempt to... replace himself as Mercedes' replacement for a boyfriend. He had come to the realization last night, after his phone call to Blaine, that Mercedes treated him more like a boyfriend than a best friend, always hanging off his arm and getting upset when he didn't spend enough time with here. Well, he had a plan, and the morning had been dedicated to putting it into action.

"Don't fret your culinary disappointments. I come bearing gifts," Kurt said excitedly. He loved doing something for his best friend. Boyfriend replacement or otherwise, he had been doing a terrible job being there for his girl lately.

"You brought tots?" Of course.

"Better. I've set you up on a date," and have one of my own, Kurt thought to himself. From the way Blaine had been excitedly chattering about it the previous night, Kurt hearing faint sounds of the Original Cast Recording in the background, it _had_ to be a date. Blaine wouldn't be so excited otherwise, right? "I get it. My new budding friendship with Blaine is making you feel left out, jealous," alone, he added mentally.

"Who's the guy?" For someone who'd had one boyfriend that was using her for popularity, she didn't sound very excited at the prospect. Well, Kurt had enough excitement for the two of them.

"Anthony Rashad." Mercedes looked over at him, and the smile he gave her was... encouraging, to say the least. This was probably his best plan yet. "Hmm? Hmm?"

"Why him?" Mercedes demanded. So much gratefulness.

"No reason," Kurt said. To be honest, he had narrowed down the football idiots one by one, and Anthony had been the best, single pick. The fact that he was indeed black, and therefore someone Mercedes could relate to in the way Kurt related to Blaine, was simply coincidence... or fate, depending on how you looked at it.

"Oh, so it has nothing to do with the fact that he's one of the five black guys at this school." It sounded more like an accusation than a question, and Mercedes was giving him far more sass than he thought was necessary.

"I.. no. He is a wide receiver on the football team, he is _very_ good-looking, and his a member of the Black Student Union." Kurt flashed his best friend a thumbs-up.

"Any non-black activities?" Since when was 'football' a 'black activity'?

"I don't know. My Google search was a little..." Kurt tried to joke with his best friend. Well, he _had_ Googled Anthony, but just to make sure he didn't have a permanent record.

"I can't take this anymore," Mercedes said, sounding fed-up, annoyed, and impatient all at once.

"Mercedes, trust me, love is just around the corner." No, he wasn't thinking of Blaine. Honestly.

"'Sup, homo?" Kurt stifled a shudder as Karofsky walked past, breathing deeply and trying not to feel phantom lips press against his as the memory replayed in his head. The wink unnerved him more than anything. There went his appetite.

"That's not what I'm talkin' about," Mercedes said, scribbling something fiercely on the legal pad she used to take Psychology notes. Throwing the marker to the table, she stood up on her chair with a sign that said 'Tots'.

After a few beats of silence,s someone behind him screamed, "Tots!" practically scaring Kurt out of his skin.

"Oh, my God," he said, half-turning to look at her before trying to pretend that he wasn't involved in this. A chant of 'Tots! Tots! Tots!' had started behind him. Principal Sylvester would not be happy.

* * *

><p>A note pasted on the choir room door ordered the kids to the auditorium for practice. To be honest, the message was quite appealing.<p>

_'To the auditoriums, dudes and lasses, Rachel has finally decided to suck less!'_

As the students filed in, Miss Holiday and Rachel walked on to the stage, determinately not looking at their audience. They were dressed to the nines in sparkly, full-length black coats lined with red fur. Kurt's immediate thought: _Chicago!_

Quinn settled down next to him, leaning on the arm rest towards him, and Kurt smiled at the Cheerio. He hadn't been close to Quinn for a while, but he had missed the girl's presence. Finn settled on his other side for some odd reason, and the show began as Puck slid down the banister of the auditorium to brag a seat behind Kurt, bumping him in the back of the head as he did so.

_You can like the life you're living  
>You can live the life you like<br>You can even marry Harry  
>and mess around with Ike<em>

Kurt knew it. He couldn't help but mouth along as the two turned to sing to the audience. Hair pulled up and bright red lipstick on, the two truly made an excellent Velma Kelly and Roxie Hart. Kurt gave Rachel an exaggerated wink on the last line.

_And that's good  
>Isn't it grand?<br>Isn't it great?  
>Isn't it swell?<br>Isn't it fun?  
>Isn't it?<br>But nothing stays_

Kurt could see hints of leg as Miss Holiday and Rachel moved, first being face to face, and his suspicions as to their outfits were confirmed when they began dancing down the stairs in perfect synchronization.

_In fifty years or so  
>It's gonna change you know<br>But, oh, it's heaven  
>Nowadays!<em>

The two ripped off their jackets and the tempo increased, making the girls and Kurt (who knew what was coming) cheer at the duo. The back-lights began lighting up and flashing as the two danced around in sync, every bit playing the characters from the movie. Kurt hadn't seen Rachel having so much fun with a number... ever, he thought.

The cheers continued from everyone as they danced and the lights flashed. The guys were probably just enjoying the view, to be honest. The height difference was almost comical though.

Rachel and Miss Holiday ducked off to the sides one last time to bring out their guns, and Kurt and Quinn both sat up in anticipation of the finale.

_And all that..._

The two started shooting at the lights, the bulbs fake exploding and creating a dazzling background before going dark. The lights came back up as the duo belted out the last note.

_jazz!_

Twin cartwheels and a hug ended the performance, accompanied by a lot of loud cheering and barely-heard applause.

"That was fantastic," Quinn muttered between yells, and Kurt couldn't help but agree. Despite what he had originally thought would happen between them, Miss Holiday had really gotten Rachel to loosen up, have fun, and utilize her great ideas for numbers.

As terrific as their performance was, the by far best thing to happen that day had yet to happen, and Kurt couldn't help but glance at his watch. The accursed thing told him it was 2:45, and he couldn't wait for eight o'clock.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Long wait and a short chapter, I know! I'm sorry. The next chapter is already in the works, but I didn't want to make a humongous-ly, outrageously long chapter, considering how much fun I'm going to have writing the **_**RENT **_**scene (I was so upset we didn't get to see any of that), and the dinner scene (which was kind of 'meh'). Oh, and some Charlie in here next time too. I promise *hearts***

****Also, was I the only one who wanted to see how Rachel got a 'very severe' bruise on her right buttock, and what gangsta rap musical chairs looked like? Hope you guys liked.****

****Oh, and I know 'lesbihonest' wasn't a thing when this episode aired, but it's such teenager slang that I had to. I just had to.  
><strong>**

**Songs used:**_  
>'Best I Ever Had'<em> by Drake_  
>'I Gotta Feeling'<em> by the Black-Eyed Peas_  
>'NowadaysHot Honey Rag'_ by Glee Cast(in case you didn't figure that out)

**Reviews are Love.**


	6. Fashion Emergency and Cloning Gone Wrong

Oh. My. GaGa. Kurt had never realized exactly how hard it would be to plan for a date until exactly that moment. Yes, Blaine had chosen the perfect setting and the perfect musical, including a duet that would work wonders for their voices. Did Kurt have the perfect outfit? _No_!

Kurt hastened through the pile set atop his vanity, looking for the perfect vest to set off his shirt. Twirling in the mirror, he was disappointed with his look and immediately peeled off his layers, looking for another top. He had decided on the jeans that Mercedes said made his butt look best (yes, she had teased him insatiably for asking), but he had no idea what else to wear.

No. No, no, no. Why was this happening? Yes, Kurt was perfectly aware that he was having a completely irrational fit over his outfit (he had seen Blaine's fashion sense. No matter what he wore, he would be the better dressed of the two), but he couldn't help worrying. His clothes were his way of showing off to the world, and his confidence, and his first date (it was a date. It had to be) was definitely a time when he would need to be confident.

Pile after pile and Kurt _still_ didn't have a good enough outfit. Glancing at his worst enemy, the clock, he discovered it was 3:50. He had spent over an hour failing to pick out his outfit, and the Community Playhouse was _three hours away!_ Blaine was picking him up at 4:30, in forty minutes, and he was still topless. Not exactly the look he was going for on a first date.

"Hey kiddo," his dad said from the staircase and Kurt shrieked for the second time today, pulling on the closest shirt.

"Sneak up on people much?" he snapped, feeling bad once he had done so, but knowing that his dad was more than used to it. "You're home early."

"Andy sent me home on your express orders that I not work more than six hours a day." Kurt rolled his eyes at his dad's put-upon expression. Try to do something for a man's health and suddenly you were the bane of his existence.

"Good. Hopefully he cleaned out your stash of beef jerky in the top left-hand drawer of your desk as well," Kurt pointed out the secret he knew from lurking around the garage since he was young, still on the search for the perfect top.

After a few minutes of silence (three minutes, his worst enemy informed him), Kurt turned from his endless quest to look at his dad's reaction. Burt was scanning the room with a mildly confused and rather entertained expression. "So, I'm guessing by the mess that you're going somewhere important?"

Kurt really hoped he wasn't blushing. "Blaine and I are going to a performance of _RENT_ at starring Greg Evigan at the Weathervane Community Playhouse." From the frank look he was getting from his dad, he knew his plan to not blush had failed.

"I have no idea who that is."

"Greg Evigan? He was in performances of _Jesus Christ Superstar_ and _Grease_, and stared in _Journey to the Center of the Earth,_ the non-Josh-Hutcherson version." His dad's look was still completely blank. "He was on CSI: Miami once, as Sean Walsh," still blank. "He's not that well known."

"I see that." A pause. "So, I'm guessing the Dalton boy isn't just a friend anymore." His dad sounded resigned, readjusting his baseball cap (a nervous habit).

"He's just a friend," Kurt admitted, "but I'm not sure that's all I want him to be." Judging by his dad's almost exasperated expression, he understood what the countertenor meant clearly. Kurt wouldn't admit that he was already rather head-over-heels for his friend. His dad's blood pressure was high enough already.

"When do I get to meet him?" Kurt looked at his dad, shocked. "Don't think you're going on a date with him without me meeting him first."

"I... he's coming to pick me up in..." shoot, thirty minutes now, "half an hour."

"Why so soon?"

"Weathervane is in Akron." It would have been nicer if the show was a little bit closer, but spending more time with Blaine was never a bad thing.

"If you're not ready, I'll answer the door for you," an incentive to hurry up better than any other, "and we'll talk about that school after you get home, okay?"

"I'll probably be home pretty late. We were thinking we would grab a late dinner after the show to discuss, and then we have to drive back." They would probably be home at about midnight, which meant Kurt would be horribly cranky on Saturday. Oh well, sacrifices must be made.

"I assure you that I'll be up." Somehow, the fairly innocent words sounded like a threat. "And you can tell your boyfriend that."

"He's not my boyfriend, Dad." Burt snorted at his son's comment, muttering 'for now' under his breath as he headed back up the stairs, leaving the countertenor to his previous wardrobe worries.

* * *

><p>"Thank God! You're taking him on a <em>date<em>!" Charlie practically shouted, tossing himself back against Blaine's bed.

"For the last time, Charlie, it's not a date." He had been trying to explain to his persistent and stubborn best friend for the better part of an hour that taking a friend to a play wasn't that unusual, planning his outfit all the while.

"Blaine, you're taking him to a romantic play with a well-known gay couple and amazing gay duet_s_, multiple, and then to dinner. All on a Friday night! That equals date in everyone's world but yours." Charlie smiled slyly, sitting up. "His too, I bet."

Blaine froze, turning to face his best friend rather than ignoring him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... what do you think _he_ thinks? I bet he thinks it's a date." Crap. Blaine had never thought of that.

"He asked to bring along his best friend, and was sad when I couldn't get an extra ticket. I don't think he's looking for alone time." Blaine could hear the devastation in Kurt's voice when he had mentioned the tickets were already sold out. It was that tone which cemented the plans for the three of them to get dinner.

"Does this friend have a boyfriend? or girlfriend? or creature that it's dating?" Charlie asked, still smirking.

"Not that I know of. He only asked for _one_ extra ticket at any rate." Charlie groaned, throwing himself back down with a muffled thump.

"I can't win!" he moaned.

"Is Charlie randomly making sex noises for fun again or am I about to be interrupting something?" Wes's voice floated over from the doorway.

"First one. Come on in." The fact that Charlie making random sex noises wasn't all that unusual said a lot about their dorm.

"So, what's this I hear about a date with Kurt?" Now Blaine groaned, smacking a hand to his forehead. Not only had Charlie misconstrued _everything_, but he had spread the rumors around.

"It's not a date," Blaine said firmly, returning to his closet.

"Of course not," Charlie said, mock-soothing. "It's just a trip to a showing of _RENT_ three hours away with tickets that were like four hundred a piece that happens to be starring a little known Broadway actor that he loves, and then a late dinner under the stars. Doesn't sound at all like a date to me."

"My, that's the most romantic not-date I've ever heard of," Wes added, and Blaine could _hear_ him grinning.

"You two are impossible. Believe it or not, the rest of the world doesn't misconstrue things like you idiots. I'm bringing Kurt to a play because he likes Broadway, I can't control what's touring and who's in it, and we're only going to a late dinner because it's three hours away and going before the show would decimate our respective afternoons." Blaine held up a shirt in front of the mirror before tossing it over his head towards the two idiots inhabiting his room. Nope, definitely not that one.

"Date," Charlie sang, and Blaine ignored it.

"Well, since it's not a date, I don't see why you're being so antisocial up here, spending so much time on your outfit." Wes had Blaine there, and he knew it.

"It's not very often that I get time out of uniform. I don't abhor the uniforms like Charlie does, but I do enjoy the break, and I plan to spend my break dressed as nicely as possible." The fact that Kurt had an obsession with fashion was coincidence.

"Right, so it has nothing to do with the fact that Kurt loves everything fashion?" Charlie asked, audibly smirking.

"How do you even know that? Either of you?" Blaine asked. Honestly, had his friends been stalking the countertenor?

"You!" Both yelled at the same time, jumping off Blaine's bed and beginning to pace around the countertenor like sharks around prey.

"All we ever hear about from you is _Kurt_," Wes began, smacking him upside the head.

"I would be eternally happy if I never heard another word about him," Charlie added, hitting him in almost the same spot.

"I could probably list every one of his hobbies," was accompanied by another hit.

"I know his class schedule by now," and another.

"Is there a reason you two are _beating on me_?" Blaine asked, stepping out of range of the two.

"Maybe we can get it through your thick skull that the two of you belong together," Wes sounded resigned, flopping back down on the empty bed.

"You two are crazy you know that, right?" Blaine asked, trying yet another look and discarding it.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Charlie snapped. Going over to Blaine's closet, he started tearing through it, obviously looking for something but leaving destruction in his wake. After a few seconds of searching, Charlie pulled out a sweater-shirt combo in black, white, and green. "There. Perfect, it'll highlight the flecks of green in your eyes."

"Sometimes you're a genius, you know that?" Blaine said gratefully, taking the clothes from Charlie and holding them up in front of the mirror. They really were perfect.

"Oh, I know. Plus, you have to look your best from your _date_," Charlie smirked, drawing out the last word and leaving the room before the tenor could respond. Blaine just sighed.

* * *

><p>Blaine wiped his hands nervously on his black pants (the ones Charlie had insisted on once he had returned. They were tighter than the Dalton pants, but nowhere near what Blaine suspected Kurt had in his closet) as he rang the doorbell. He tried to portray his usual air of confidence, but that aura seemed dependent on his sangfroid because he knew he'd be visibly nervous. Oh well. Hopefully Kurt won't read into it... yeah, right.<p>

Blaine's nerves increased a hundred-fold when Burt Hummel opened the door rather than Kurt. The countertenor had told him stories about his dad and the grizzly bear like protectiveness everyone associated with him, but Blaine was hoping he'd have at least a few more months to live before he met the fearsome man himself.

"Hello, sir," Blaine's Dalton manners captured his mouth. "My name is Blaine Anderson, and I'm here to pick up your son." Well, he couldn't have made that sound anymore like a date situation if he'd tried.

"Yes. I know." Blaine was not welcomed in. "Burt Hummel." Eyes, scarily similar to the ones that interested him on a Dalton staircase only a week or so ago, stared him up and down before Burt offered him a work-calloused hand to shake. Mentally breathing a sigh of relief, Blaine shook the offered hand, trying not to wince as he realized Burt was doing his best to squish his hand. "You go to that, uh, prep school Kurt's considering right?"

Kurt was considering Dalton? "Yes, sir, Dalton Academy for boys."

"Hm. Come in," Burt jerked his head into the house before stepping out of the way. Blaine realized he was holding his breath as he crossed the threshold of the house. Burt looked like he had a forty-five and a shovel, and Blaine wondered how long it would be before someone missed him.

Burt took a seat on the couch, leaving Blaine to hover awkwardly at the edge of the living room, afraid to take a seat next to the man, but there was no other seat for him to take, considering the armchair was draped in sheet music. Kurt's father wasn't exactly the most inviting person either.

"Well, Kurt's downstairs worrying about his outfit, and that could take hours, so you might as well sit down. You can move that, er, stuff of Kurt's." Blaine decided to move it, fearing the wrath of Kurt's dad more than he feared that of Kurt (and that was saying something). "You can relax, y'know," Burt offered unexpectedly, making Blaine's eyebrows raise before he could stop them. "I don't know what you've heard from my son or those crazy kids he calls his friends, but I don't bite."

"That's... slightly contrary to what I've heard," Blaine offered diplomatically as soon as he realized Burt was waiting for an answer.

"Not surprising, but you seem like a good kid. I'd suggest you keep that impression." Now, _that_ sounded like a threat. Blaine gulped and nodded. "So, you and Kurt are going to one of those musicals of his."

"_RENT_," Blaine supplied, feeling only slightly less intimidated.

"That the one with all the college-age idiots with AIDS?" Blaine laughed slightly at Burt's description before nodding. "He made me watch the movie with him. Cried like a baby, he did," Burt said with a chuckle, just in time for Kurt to hear it.

"Dad! That's not something you _share!_" Kurt said exasperatedly, wearing a short trench coat in blue and gray, not buttoned but pulled tight to cover the top of his outfit, but Blaine could see he was wearing the tightest white skinny jeans in existence and stylish black lace-up boots.

"'Course it is," Burt said with a grin, looking a lot more friendly with the addition of Kurt's presence. "Thought he deserved fair warning." Kurt didn't respond with anything but faint mutterings under his breath which probably weren't very complimentary. Burt eyed the coat with suspicion. "Kiddo, what are you wearing?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, apparently very used to this, and pulled open his coat to reveal a simple shirt that was probably a t-shirt with an odd black-and-white pattern that reminded Blaine of zebra, but wasn't. There was a name for it, but he couldn't remember it. Fairly tame by Kurt's standards, but he looked fantastic as always. "Satisfied?" Kurt sounded annoyed but not overly-irritated with his dad's suspicion.

"Usually when you wear a coat up the stairs it's because you're sneaking out in something you don't want me to see," Burt defended himself, "like that weird Lady Gaga... thing or the cheerleader's uniform."

"Perhaps, but it's part of the ensemble," Kurt said with a little sniff. "Hey," he said, addressing Blaine for the first time with a huge smile. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Blaine said shortly, trying to prevent his traitorous eyes from lingering on how tight Kurt's pants were. "I'll have him back by midnight," he addressed Burt, knowing that was late but not seeing any way around it.

"Fine by me," was the answer Blaine was very relieved to hear.

"_Goodnight_, Dad." Kurt wasn't very subtle in trying to tell his dad not to stay up. Blaine could hear the real message, and Burt could too.

"Not a chance, kiddo." Kurt just sighed and leaned down to give his dad a quick hug before grabbing Blaine's hand and leaving the house like it was on fire.

* * *

><p>"I apologize if he traumatized you," was Kurt's opening line once the door had closed behind them.<p>

"He actually didn't. I was surprised too, but he seemed pretty... approving." Kurt's dad had been nothing but approving actually. Apparently, Blaine had stressed over meeting him for absolutely nothing.

"I'm sorry, I should have been ready. You shouldn't even have had to deal with him. I mean, you're not my boyfriend." Kurt's eyes widened slightly as he approached the very topic he had been thinking about the entire day.

"It's just because he cares," was the only answer Blaine had to that. If that wasn't a clear 'not interested' sign, he didn't know what would be.

"I'm pretty sure we've reached the point of over-caring," Kurt teased, but the awkwardness wasn't entirely gone.

"You're lucky to have him. Not all dad's are like yours," Blaine said quietly, thinking of how his own father had reacted. Not with scorn, not always, but sometimes with pity for what he had assumed would be a difficult road for his son to go down. "I just don't want your life to be harder than it needs to be" was the worst.

"Blaine, I..." Kurt hesitantly placed a hand on his arm.

"I'm fine," Blaine lied. "I wasn't talking about mine."

"Oh." Blaine couldn't tell if Kurt had simply seen through him or if it was just natural awkwardness from a tender subject.

"Are you excited about the play?" Blaine asked, and it was obviously the right question. Apparently, Kurt had done his research and was more than happy to give Blaine a blow-by-blow of how he thought every actor would do in their role, especially Greg Evigan.

Blaine just smiled to himself at how excited Kurt seemed to be, and tried to casually walk but ended up running a little in order to open the door for the countertenor. It wasn't until Kurt blushed and got in that Blaine figured out he might slightly be giving off date vibes.

"So, I was thinking we could go to the Olive Garden after the play." Blaine tuned back in to Kurt's spiel just in time to hear the one thing he would have to answer.

"Yeah, sure. I know right where that is." Kurt raised a perfectly coiffed eyebrow in question. "My sister used to take me to Akron a lot when she was in high school so that we could see whatever was touring at the time. She likes Broadway almost as much as you do, and she would always drag me to dinner afterwards, even though I'd be dead on my feet. Akron's almost five hours away from Westerville, and she would never let me sleep in the car because she needed someone to talk to or _she_ would fall asleep. Either she would keep me up, or she would put rock music on high, which was detrimental to my sleep... to say the least," Blaine explained as he put on some music.

"Really? The ridiculous crappy pop station?" Kurt asked, sniffing as if in disdain.

"Oh, hush. What do you want to listen to?" Kurt quickly changed the station to one he'd never heard of, but it was playing _Porcelain Doll_ by the little-known Megan McCauley, so Blaine figured at least some of the music had to be good.

"They sound fun, the trips with your sister," Kurt responded to his story once they'd solved their music problem.

"They always were. Lila's full of energy, but she's wonderful to be around when she's not feeling shy. Kind of like you," Blaine added before he could stop himself.

"I'm not shy," Kurt replied, and Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Of course not. That's why you acted like an awkward turtle meeting Wes and David." Blaine snorted, turning on to the highway.

"I... I did not!" Kurt said with a little huff, turning to face the window. "I just... wasn't in a good place," Kurt admitted, still staring out the window.

"I know. I'm sorry," Blaine apologized, but Kurt just shrugged.

"You're right. Nothing to apologize for." Great, now he'd gone and made things awkward.

"Bull. I'm willing to bet quite a bit that this last week took more of a toll on you than you're willing to admit." Blaine gambled, and was rewarded with a sigh.

"Yes, but I do talk to you about," he pointed out. "Plus, it hasn't been so bad lately, with Miss Holiday around and no sign of Karofsky except for at lunch.. well, today actually." It didn't seem like his minor argument with Mercedes and the tot revolution had been only hours ago. They seemed a million years away.

"What happened?" Blaine asked, immediately concerned.

"Nothing, really. Just a 'sup, homo?' and a wink." Kurt had been a little thrown by Karofsky's comment, but he was too wrapped up in his conversation to really care.

"You're sure you're all right?" Blaine knew he was being overly-protective, but he didn't particularly care. Having Karofsky so scared and volatile around Kurt worried him.

"I'm fine, Blaine," Kurt said firmly, and Blaine let it go. "So, tell me about yourself."

"Are we meeting on a dating web site?" Blaine said, mocking the hackneyed phrase. "There's not much to tell. I'm Ohio born and raised, I have three parents, a brother, and a sister, and I go to Dalton Academy for Boys."

"You have a brother?" Kurt asked. He hadn't heard of Blaine's sister until Blaine mentioned her earlier, but he'd never heard of his brother.

"More like a clone, really. His name's Everett, and he always makes the joke that my birth was his cloning gone wrong." Blaine explained, knowing without looking away from the road that Kurt was giving him a curious look. "We look scarily alike, except he has blue eyes. The reason, apparently, that I'm considered a clone gone wrong is that I'm too short to be considered a human." Kurt started laughing, trying to press his lips together to resist the urge at first, but he gave up fast. "It's not that funny."

"It really is," Kurt choked out, still laughing.

"I'm 5'8", you know. That's really not that short." Blaine turned away from the road for a moment to pout at his best friend.

"I have a brother that's 6'3". I'm 5'10". All the guys I know are pretty tall. You're short to me," Kurt pointed out, and Blaine gave up, turning back to the highway, mumbling about his height. "Favorite color?"

"Blue." 'Your eyes,' would be a little more accurate.

"Grade?" Blaine rolled his eyes. Kurt clearly didn't plan to give up on learning things about him today, even just the mundane things that had never really mattered to them.

"Junior." Kurt smiled at that answer.

"Same. Past boyfriends?" Blaine raised an eyebrow at Kurt's line of questioning.

"No." He decided to go with the simple answer, rather than trying to explain his confusing and rather shameful history with guys. It wasn't a lie, not even a lie of omission. He'd never had someone he could have, hold, and properly call a 'boyfriend'.

"Past girlfriends?" Kurt asked, sounding rather teasing, and Blaine rolled his eyes, trying to switch lanes as he did so and almost hitting the guard rail.

"Jeesh, but no. You?" Blaine turned the question back on Kurt, who made a questioning noise over the music. "Well, you said a kiss had to be with the gender you preferred, which means you've never had a boyfriend if... last week was your first kiss." Blaine brought up the incident hesitantly, but Kurt gave no reaction. "I figure if that's on your list, than it's possibly it applies to your kiss count."

"'Kiss count'?" Kurt mocked. Blaine ignored him. "I've actually had... one-and-a-half girlfriends." That... wasn't what he was expecting. "it's kind of a long story."

"We have over three hours to go," Blaine pointed out, and Kurt obliged.

"Back when I wasn't... officially out yet, last year..." Blaine couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. Like Kurt had ever been able to hide from anyone. "Shut up. You asked. Anyway, Mercedes developed a little crush on me." Blaine outright laughed at that one, banging his hand against the wheel.

"How did that happen?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. I have no idea how she didn't figure out I was gay, but she didn't. We were having a money-raising carwash to try and hire Dakota Stanley-"

"The dance director?" Blaine asked, surprised the New Directions, who so obviously valued their individuality, would do such a thing, even from the little he knew about them.

"Yes. The one who told me to stay away from aerosol cans because I could burst into flames at any second." Blaine gasped, shocked at what Stanley had said. While he'd heard Dakota Stanley was a slave driver with little respect to a human's need for food, water, and oxygen, he'd never heard that the choreographer was an _asshole_.

"Oh, wow. I am... so sorry." Blaine wasn't sure what else to say, but Kurt shrugged it off.

"Happens. Anyway, she asked me when we would make our dating 'official' and... well, I was kind of shocked. I hadn't realized she'd been... misconstruing the time we spent together. In hindsight, going to movies and sing-a-longs and shopping together could have seemed like dating, but it had never occurred to me." Kurt _still_ sounded a little surprised by it.

"Most gay guys don't assume that girls are interested in them," Blaine said with a little grimace, thinking of Molly. "Trust me."

"I get to hear that story after. I told Mercedes that I liked someone else, who, at the time, was Finn. Unfortunately, between Finn and I was _Rachel_, of all people, who'd been ducked between cars when I said it, but popped up into Mercedes' line of sight. Needless to say, it did not end well." Kurt winced, and Blaine wondered what she possibly could have done.

"What happened?" Blaine could come up with all sorts of colorful scenarios.

"She put a rock through the windshield of my Navigator," and none of them were as horrible as that.

"Oh... my... lanta," Blaine said, and Kurt giggled at the phrase. "That's... that's a horrible thing to do!"

"You're telling me. I only got it back this summer. Of course, it probably didn't help that I was too much of a chicken to just tell her and instead told her I liked was Rachel." Kurt made an exaggerated gagging noise, and Blaine rolled his eyes. She couldn't be _that_ bad.

"She can't be _that_ bad." Kurt just shook his head.

"You have no idea. I did apologize to her afterwards, and she was the first person I came out too." Kurt sounded very nostalgic.

"Scariest thing ever, huh?" Blaine asked, remembering the lead weight in his stomach, the tight throat, the stammering, and the profuse sweating that had characterized his Telling of The Parents.

"Yeah. She was fine with it, of course, and she helped give me the courage to tell my dad, not that he didn't know." Blaine chuckled. Even Mr. Hummel couldn't have missed that.

"What did he say?" Blaine asked, overly curious. Well, Kurt had asked him a ton of questions. It only seemed right that he asked Kurt a few.

"That he'd known since I was three and I allegedly asked for a pair of sensible heels for my birthday." Blaine laughed. Allegedly, his ass. That sounded characteristic of Kurt, even at three. "He wasn't 'totally in love with the idea', but he loves me just as much in spite of it." Blaine tried not to think of his own dad's reaction.

"You have an amazing father, Kurt." There was a moment of heavy silence, and Blaine could tell by the look on his face that Kurt wanted to take his hand, but he kept both hands firmly on the wheel. He didn't need the comfort. "So, that's the half of a girlfriend, I presume. What about the whole one? or were there three half ones?" Blaine asked, and the moment was broken.

"Later in the year, after I had come out to my dad, I dated a girl named Brittany. I know that doesn't make any sense, and the story really doesn't, but it made sense to a very emotional and insecure me at the time." Blaine nodded, hoping Kurt would realize that he would never judge him. "After we'd had some... issues with my father dating Finn's mother, issues mostly revolving around Finn and I, Finn and my father started bonding, and I was feeling very... left out. Invisible," Kurt almost whispered, and Blaine resisted the urge to reach for his hand, Charlie's warning about Kurt thinking this was a date ringing in his head.

"I get that." He remembered watching Everett and his dad play baseball in the backyard from where he was listening to Funny Girl in his bedroom. Oddly, he could remember that happening on a hundred different occasions, like he'd grown up watching only that scene. Looking back looked like a scene from a bad movie.

Kurt smiled at him shakily before continuing. "I was really upset when my dad came to pick Finn up for... some game of some sort and I hadn't been invited. Therefore, I skipped out on cheerleading practice." Blaine wondered why this was important to the story, but didn't ask. "It was when my coach came to talk to be about absenteeism that she put this crazy idea in my head." Kurt didn't seem inclined to say anymore.

"What idea?" Blaine pried thoughtlessly.

"I told her that I was growing apart from my dad because of my sexuality, and she... Coach Sylvester has a way of making you think that whatever she says is magically correct. it's a very dangerous power, and she abuses it. She's rather... persuasive, and quite terrifying."

"Kurt, stop trying to justify this. I'm not going to look down on you for dating a girl once." Blaine almost rolled his eyes, but figured it wouldn't be taken too kindly.

"She pointed out that I'd never actually kissed either gender, and... well, I believe her exact words were this: 'That's the problem with your generation, you're obsessed with labels. So you like show tunes, doesn't mean your gay! Just means you're awful.' She proceeded to leave with some witty, parting crack that I don't remember, and I got it into my head that maybe trying some things out would be a good idea." Kurt looked ashamed again, so Blaine decided to lighten the mood.

"She certainly sounds like... something." Blaine wasn't even sure what to think of the stories he'd heard about one Sue Sylvester.

"That she is," Kurt said with a smile. "For our assignment that week, I decided to sing _Pink Houses_ by John Cougar Mellencamp." Blaine choked on his own spit at the name of the song.

"Let me get this straight... pardon the pun. You sang _Oh, but ain't that America, for you and me. Ain't that America, somethin' to see, baby. Ain't that America, home of the free, yeah. Little pink houses for you and me_'?" Blaine said, too surprised by the song choice to bother sounding decent in singing it.

"Sounds much better when you do it," Kurt muttered. "Yes, I did. Apparently, it worked. Brittany... propositioned me, and I said yes. We started dating." Kurt was looking a little shifty, and he was blushing.

"Propositioned you to do what, exactly?" Blaine asked, and was satisfied with the darker flush that colored Kurt's cheeks.

"Makeout," Kurt squeaked quickly, obviously embarrassed, and Blaine chuckled.

"Did you at least get to second base?" Blaine teased, and Kurt thwacked him on the arm. Hard. "Ow."

"You earned that," Kurt said firmly, and yeah, he had. "No, I didn't, not for lack of trying on her part anyway. After I solved things with my dad-"

"Did that involve another song?" Blaine asked teasingly, enjoying the new ways to embarrass Kurt and make him blush.

"_Rose's Turn_ from _Gypsy_," Kurt answered with a little smirk, obviously happy to have countered Blaine's teasing with an actual answer. Well, that's no fun. "I broke up with Brittany after I solved things with my dad, and she didn't seem to mind. I guess she finally understood that I'm capital G gay." Blaine gave Kurt a look for a second. "Don't ask. I'm pretty sure I was just to give her a perfect record."

"A perfect record for dating guys?" Blaine asked, wondering how this Brittany girl got around.

"A perfect record for making out with guys actually. Girls too, I think, but no one mentions that one." Blaine had to stop choking on his own spit. It wasn't at all flattering.

"You, a gay man, dated a promiscuous bisexual woman. This is... normal." Kurt was quiet for a second. "Kurt, I'm kidding."

"I know. I'm just thinking about what you said, and how odd it sounds without a back story. Oh, and we were both cheerleaders at the time." Blaine had to resist the urge to throw his head back as he laughed to avoid driving them into an eighteen-wheeler, settling for banging on the steering wheel.

"That's funny as hell," Blaine said with a grin.

"Now, you get to tell me _your_ story." Blaine groaned. "Not so funny when the tables are turned, is it?" Blaine shook his head, and sighed.

"Mine's not nearly as funny as yours though. There was an incident with a girl from Dalton's sister school who was rather obsessed with me, but I told her I'm gay, and she got over it. The only funny part is it took me three weeks and a direct statement from Wes for me to realize what was happening." Kurt chuckled.

"Your stories aren't nearly as funny as mine." Blaine raised an eyebrow at the challenge.

"Please, I could tell you stories about Charlie in the kitchen that would make you laugh until you peed your pants." Kurt made a disgusted face.

"Try me."

"The story of: how ninety percent of the Warbler's have burn scars on their feet thanks to Charlie." Kurt raised an eyebrow and Blaine began. "Charlie has a talent for making the most simple meals in exquisite ways. I guess it comes from a childhood of refusing filet mignon for burgers. Anyway, one day, back when he was allowed in the kitchen, he was making macaroni and cheese, a fairly normal occurrence. He walks from the stove to the sink and manages to spill the boiling water all over the tile floor, without dropping a single noodle. Unconcerned because he couldn't feel the heat through his shoes, he continues making his macaroni. After he's done in the kitchen, all the Warblers come streaming down for lunch. _Every single Warbler_ who was there that day has burn scars on their feet even now, and that was two years ago." Kurt cracked up laughing, and Blaine joined in with a few chuckles for his idiotic best friend's antics. After Kurt had calmed down, he sighed.

"Not even tears at the corners of my eyes. You're going to have to try harder."

"The story of: the differences between soda." Kurt looked intrigued. "Charlie was baking a cake. Now, Charlie is an amazing _cook_, but he can't bake _at all_. So, he reads off the ingredients list. He looks around, finds flour, sugar, almost everything. However, he can't find the baking soda. So, he figures it can't be that difference from _normal_ soda." Kurt was already laughing. "He pours in about a liter of Diet Coke, his favorite soda, and put's it in the oven. It explodes with a huge BANG! at the very moment Charlie opens the door to take it out because it was bubbling, and we were cleaning globs of burnt, Diet-Coke-smelling cake batter from every inch of the kitchen for _weeks_." Kurt was laughing so hard he was resting his head against the window.

"Much better, but not good enough," Kurt criticized when he was done laughing, wiping away a few spare tears.

"The story of: making a sandwich à la Charlie." His names for stories were improving as he went on. "He wanted to make a peanut butter and Nutella sandwich. He adores them, he says they taste like Reese's Peanut Butter cups. It was winter, and it was so cold the Nutella wouldn't spread. Being Charlie, he puts the Nutella in the microwave despite the fact that David warned him it was plastic. Not only does the Nutella explode and get all over the inside of the microwave, but Charlie pulls it out and drops it because it's _on fire_. After we manage to stamp out the flames, Charlie goes 'I think it's burnt.'" Kurt was definitely crying from laughter this time, tears flowing freely. Despite the fact that these tears were from happiness, they tugged slightly at Blaine's heart. He'd never wanted to protect someone like he did Kurt.

"What is _wrong_ with that boy?" Kurt said, still laughing. "What else could he have possibly done that gets more funny?"

"Well, there's always the story of: the un-microwave-safe chocolate." Kurt gestured for Blaine to continue, still laughing from the last story. "Charlie makes, or, _made_, this amazing hot chocolate with Swiss Miss cocoa mix, Ovaltine chocolate, Garelick chocolate milk, and normal, skim milk. Well, you combine the first three in a mug and then add some of the normal milk warmed and mix it. No problem, right? Well, there's a definite problem when you've already started making it, and you find out you don't have anything to heat the milk in. Charlie, being Charlie, decided to heat it in the cup with the chocolate, actually, surprisingly, _amazingly_, checking to make sure the mug was microwave safe. The story ends like this: the milk was microwave safe, the mug was microwave safe, but the chocolate was apparently _not_ microwave safe. The chocolate bubbled over and congealed itself to every surface available. We had to get a new microwave _and_ a new mug." Kurt's laughed had redoubled before he could control it and he really did seem in danger of peeing his pants.

"How is this stuff even possible?" Kurt said, choking out the words between laughter.

"The story of-" Blaine started, but Kurt cut him off by hitting him on the arm.

"No, no, you win," Kurt said, still laughing.

"That's what I thought."

* * *

><p>"So, your dad let it slip that you were considering Dalton?" Blaine asked a little bit later, once Kurt had calmed down and Blaine had said sufficient 'I told you so's.<p>

"I'm not sure I am now," Kurt joked, very at ease with his best friend. He wasn't sure he'd laughed as much in the last four months as he had during the car ride.

"Sure you aren't. I thought things at school weren't that bad anymore," Blaine asked, as he was obviously concerned that Kurt had been lying to him.

"They aren't, but I realized something, spending time with you and visiting Dalton. My version of 'not that bad' or 'fine' is everyone else's version of absolutely miserable. I hold my life at a low standard, but I think I could really be happy at Dalton." Kids at McKinley always complained about being unhappy, but it wasn't until he had spent time around someone truly happy (most of the time), that he realized out of everyone at McKinley, he probably had it the worst.

"I hope you would be. We would really love to have you, as a person. I mean, stealing a vocal powerhouse would just be a fortunate bonus." Kurt chuckled. Blaine put too much faith in the idea of Mr. Schue ever giving him a solo.

"All you would do at this point is damage the New Directions in numbers." Kurt wasn't sure whether to call the New Directions 'us' or 'them'.

"That works too," Blaine said, relaxed. "I mean it though, Kurt. We would love to have you at Dalton."

"I would love to _be_ at Dalton, but I think what you said when we first met is true. Tuition at Dalton is pretty steep, and it might not be an option for me, especially with how the garage lost profits when my dad wasn't able to work." Blaine nodded, clearly using that big brain of his to think of possibilities.

"There are always scholarships. Academic ones, musical ones. There's even financial aid, and, no offense, but comparing you to the rest of the students at Dalton, you'd probably qualify." Kurt didn't take offense. Blaine didn't have a malicious bone in his body.

"If you're the normal, I'm pretty sure I would qualify too." Blaine chuckled.

"I warn you, being at Dalton would mean you'd have to put up with crazy antics from twice as many choir members, all boys." Kurt made a face.

"I think I'd survive... maybe." Blaine chuckled, both at Kurt's expression and his words.

"Maybe. Either way, good luck," Blaine said with a grin, and Kurt sighed.

"Thanks, I'll need it. Just like you'll need it at Sectionals," Kurt replied with a smirk.

"Oh, it is _so_ on."

* * *

><p>"Fucking, shitty ass town, with no goddamn parking. What the hell is wrong with people? Taking up three fucking spaces just because they can and they're too drunk to remember their own damn names never mind how to drive. Pieces of shit, probably couldn't drive to begin with..." Blaine had been keeping up a steady stream of curse words and abuse to the town's occupants as they arrived at filled parking lot after filled parking lot. "Screw this," he said finally.<p>

Blaine took a sharp turn, practically on two wheels out of the parking lot and headed back down the street, towards the half-empty one that had been discarded on the basis of ridiculous rates. Turning into that very parking lot, Blaine leaned out of the car and punched something into the screen, muttering about stupid ass people who don't know how to park. Ticket in hand, he drove into the parking lot.

"Blaine, isn't this the parking lot that's about forty dollars an hour?" Kurt asked, concerned.

"Doesn't matter, I'm tired of dealing with all the people in this town and their piss poor parking skills." Blaine had relaxed considerably now that they actually had a parking spot and he cleaned up his language, using his usual amused tone of voice.

"Blaine, at least-" Kurt was beginning to feel bad about the amount of money Blaine was spending. The tickets (which Kurt had looked up. $460 a piece), the gas, and now the ridiculously-expensive parking spot.

"Kurt, don't even think about it," Blaine said without looking away from the road, obviously seeing Kurt going for his wallet. "This is my treat, and you are not paying for a thing, mister." Blaine's tone was joking, but Kurt had a feeling he wouldn't manage to convince his friend to let him pay.

"Fine." There was silence in the car, the first silence in a while, as Blaine found his appropriate parking spot and pulled in. Kurt didn't give him the chance to open the door for him, popping out of the car immediately and stretching.

"You aren't really mad at me for not letting me pay, are you?" Blaine asked, concerned, and Kurt shook his head, touching his toes. God, he had a nice ass...

"Of course not. I just had to get out of that car." They really should have taken the Navigator. Much more plush, with more leg room.

"All right. Ready to head for the show?" Blaine asked, noticing how close it was to eight. Parking had taken longer than he'd planned for it to take. In hindsight, reserving a parking spot before the show on the Internet would have been a good idea.

"Ready when you are," Kurt said, finally standing straight so Blaine could think properly, and they headed out of the parking garage. More curse words had slipped out of Blaine's mouth when some ignorant man almost ran them over, but they reached the street without incident.

They'd had to get parking in the main part of Akron, so they flagged over a taxi to get to the small outpost of the city near the Sand Run Metropolitan Park. The ride was only about fifteen minutes, as the irate taxi driver informed them, but that was cutting it pretty close.

Kurt was chatting on and on about how excited he was. Having only seen the movie, he was really excited to know how different the musical actually was. Blaine was more than happy to listen and occasionally nod when necessary. Researching on his phone, he saw the Olive Garden in Akron was at another small outpost, just a few minutes closer to home, and about as far away from the theater as the main city was.

Kurt was still talking when they reached the theater, giving Blaine the chance to open his door for him once again. Kurt stopped talking as he got out of the car, flushing a little and smiling. Charlie's warning about leading Kurt on rang in his ears again.

"You ready for this?" Blaine asked, taking Kurt's hand to keep him close in the throngs of people.

"Haven't you been listening to me for the last fifteen minutes?" Kurt said with a roll of his eyes. He obviously realized that the answer was in fact 'no.'

"Let's go then."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: NOOOOO! This was not supposed to be a filler chapter! That dang scene in the middle took over and stole my story. I promise, promise, promise that a chapter with the actual performance of RENT will happen next chapter, and I apologize once again.**

**The song is: **_'Pink Houses'_ by John Cougar Mellencamp,** but you guys are Gleeks, so you knew that. I also mentioned** _'Rose's Turn'_ from _Gypsy_ and _'Porcel__ain Doll_' by Megan McCauley.

**Am I the only one who was disappointed that we didn't get to see a Burt meets Blaine scene? I remedied that :)**

**Kurt's outfit (is fabulous. The pants are tighter in my mind, but still. Perfection)**: http: / www. neimanmarcus. com/ store/ catalog/ ?itemId= prod143850116 &parentId =cat19420731 &masterId =cat000488 &index =0 &cmCat =cat000000 cat000470 cat000478 cat000488 cat19420731 &isEditorial =false

**Broadcast Love Across All Reviews.**


	7. No Day But Today

**A/N: Thanks to Anna for pointing out that I accidentally made a small gay love story between Burt and Finn's dead father last chapter with a typo... I fixed that, and the fact that I'd apparently forgotten to spell check. Sorry for the horrible errors. ACTUAL RENT IN THIS CHAPTER! I wasn't really sure how to write it, so I hope you like what I did.**

* * *

><p>"I'm so excited," Kurt said as they entered the theater. No, the Weathervane Community Playhouse wasn't a Broadway theater with a grand foyer and ascending stairs covered in red velvet carpeting and balconies with intricate designs, but he was still thrilled to be in Akron seeing a show.<p>

"Should be fantastic," Blaine replied, sounding nonchalant, but his pace quickened as they headed towards the orchestra section.

"Thank you for getting us these tickets, by the way, I wasn't sure if I'd already said that." Kurt was feeling unreasonably awkward and nervous, probably because he had no idea what to think of this little... outing. A date? Not a date? Was there any possible middle ground?

"It's no problem. Trust me, I have no issue using you as an excuse to spend money and come see great actors do an amazing show." Blaine gave Kurt a wide grin as he said that, and it made Kurt a little bit curious.

"Using me as an excuse?" he repeated as more of a question.

"Yeah. Telling my father I was bringing a friend to a show guaranteed me access to his credit cards for the evening." Blaine sounded like a mischievous seven-year-old, and Kurt couldn't help but grin along with him. Blaine's enthusiasm was infectious.

"How long is it until the show?" Kurt asked, just as the lights started to go down and all the chatter in the theatre stopped.

"Does that answer your question?" Blaine whispered back.

_December 24th 9PM Eastern Standard Time  
>From here on in I shoot without a script<br>See if anything come of it  
>Instead of my old shit<em>

Seeing the show as a _show_ was a hundred times more amazing than the movie, no matter how many times he had forced Mercedes to watch it with him. It didn't hurt, of course, that there was a gorgeous boy in the seat next to him making commentary in his ear.

The one little problem was what Blaine had said earlier. 'Friend'. He was taking a _friend_ to a show, not a boyfriend, not even a _guy_, just a friend. Kurt's hope that this was a date was waning.

"Somehow Mark's mom always reminds me of mine, except for the lesbian jokes... most of the time," Blaine murmured.

Okay, so the title song wasn't quite as cool when they weren't throwing flaming eviction notices into the street, but Kurt didn't care.

"Look, it's Angel!" Kurt said as _You Okay Honey?_ started.

"Your favorite, right?" Blaine asked, and Kurt could hear the grin in his voice, so he nudged Blaine's shoulder out of obligation.

"Now, here's what I don't understand," Blaine muttered a little bit later. "He can't write any songs, but a _fantastic song_, my favorite of the show, just randomly pops into his head." Kurt had to giggle quietly at Blaine's commentary, ignoring the shushing from the elderly, irritated patrons behind them.

"Blaine, this is a Broadway show. The random singing doesn't have to make sense as long as we enjoy it." Blaine was pouting, Kurt could tell, but he didn't respond.

"_And_ cue Mimi! Do you think if I wolf-whistled really loudly it would be frowned upon?" Blaine asked, making Kurt giggle again. "I am personally of the opinion that she does not in fact have the best ass below fourteenth street, but to each his own."

_Light My Candle_ was very good, with lots of chemistry between Mimi and Roger. "Somehow this song always makes 'light my candle' sound like a dirty euphemism to me," Kurt commented.

"Are you just realizing this?" Blaine asked, raising an eyebrow. Kurt was glad they were close enough to the only source of light (the stage) that he could see Blaine's face. "_I didn't recognize you without the handcuffs. We could light the candle_," Blaine sang softly, and putting it like that made it seem blatantly obvious.

"I love Angel's Christmas outfit. So cute." Blaine gave him the 'you're not seriously thinking about wearing that, are you?' look he got at least once a day. "I mean on a _girl_, theoretically. He looks fine in it too." Blaine rolled his eyes (drama queen).

"I love the _Tango: Maureen_!" Blaine said excitedly, earning some more harsh whispers from behind them. "_Feel like going insane? Got a fire in your brain? And you're thinking of drinking gasoline?"_ Blaine did the song much, _much_ better than the Mark on stage, though Kurt wasn't entirely impartial.. especially since Blaine sang it with a growl in his voice that sent shivers down Kurt's spine.

"Where'd you learn to tango?" Kurt asked jokingly.

"With the French Ambassador's daughter in her dorm room at Miss Porter's," Blaine replied immediately. "And you?"

"With Nanette Himmelfarb. The Rabbi's daughter at the Scarsdale Jewish Community Center," Kurt replied, surprised Blaine had given the girl's answer.

"Ah, pookie, it's so fun going to a show with someone that loves Broadway as much as I do," Blaine said, making Kurt giggle at the term.

"Pookie? You never call me pookie," Kurt replied, then sang out, "_The Tango Maureen!_" at the same time Blaine did. "Oh, Gaga, this next scene," Kurt murmured, wishing Mercedes was around to offer him a shoulder to bury his face in.

"I know, the Life Support scenes are so sad," Blaine muttered, taking Kurt's hand for comfort and making him smile.

"I love _Out Tonight_, though." Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand needing the comfort himself.

"Oh, yeah, female strippers, what could be better?" Blaine asked sarcastically.

"_What's the time? Well, it's gotta be close to midnight. My body's talking to me, it says, 'time for danger',_" Kurt sang quietly as he had a million times, letting his voice take on a dangerous quality that usually made people laugh at him. He knew Blaine wouldn't laugh.

"You'd make a better Mimi than this chick," Blaine scoffed. The Mimi, for all her chemistry with Roger, wasn't all that good, and both Blaine and Kurt winced as she struck out on the high note for _Out Tonight_. "We might need to change the outfit a little though." Kurt blushed at his comment. He would never wear _anything_ like that.

"I can't wait for Roger to rebuff her," was all Kurt said in reply.

"Oh, God, this song," Blaine muttered as _Will I?_ began, squeezing Kurt's hand again.

_Will I lose my dignity?  
>Will someone care?<br>Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?_

Kurt was tearing up by the end of the song, trying to wipe away his tears before Blaine noticed, but Blaine didn't say anything, instead letting go of Kurt's hand to wrap the countertenor in a hug quickly. Kurt knew the song was about their fear of dying from AIDS, but it reminded him so much of his mom's final days that he always cried hearing it.

"New York City, center of the universe," Blaine said along with Angel, grinning and releasing Kurt from their hug. "The place all performers' dreams lie. Mine, yours, your crazy friend Rachel's."

"Don't ever get Rachel started on New York City. She loves it so much she refuses to listen to this song. _Anywhere else you could possibly go after New York would be a pleasure cruise_."

"_Let's open up a restaurant in Santa Fe. Sunny Santa Fe would be nice. We'll open up a restaurant in Santa Fe, and leave this to the roaches and mice._" Poker, New York was crowded, dirty, and full of people that were either crazy or homicidal, but it was the best city on earth, and the city of Kurt's dreams. That didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the song.

"The next song is my favorite," Kurt admitted. _I'll Cover You_ had been the first gay duet he had ever heard, and he fell in love with it in an instant. He had always had a secret dream of singing it with his boyfriend ('great singing voice' was first on his list of boyfriend requirements), and he wondered if that was about to happen right now.

"I know, I love this song. Not just because it's a gay duet either. If you'd do me the honor, good sir." Was Blaine asking Kurt to sing it with him?

"Alone at last," Kurt said with Angel, this part being familiar.

"He'll be back, I guarantee." Kurt was secretly thrilled that Blaine knew even the dialogue as well as he did.

"I've been hearing violins all night!" Well, that wasn't entirely Angel.

"Anything to do with me?" Blaine asked, and Kurt wished he wasn't just reciting with Collins. "Are we a thing?" If only that was an honest question.

"Darling, we're everything!" Kurt's dream was about to come true, he guaranteed it. "_Live in my house, I'll be your shelter, just pay me back with one thousand kisses. Be my lover, and I'll cover you_." Kurt wasn't paying an ounce of attention to the actors on stage, and neither was Blaine. They were looking at each other and smiling as they sang, though Kurt knew that only he was singing _to_ Blaine, or, at least, he thought so.

"_Open your door, I'll be your tenant. Don't got much baggage to lay at your feet, but sweet kisses I've got to spare. I'll be there, and I'll cover you._" Kurt was struck at that moment with a fantasy of kissing Blaine, the sweet, gentle way Blaine would cup his face with his guitar-calloused hands, Blaine's soft lips... this was definitely something he needed to experience in real life.

"_I think they meant it when they said you can't buy love, now I know you can rent it. A new lease you are, my love, on life, be my life,"_ Blaine and Kurt sang together. Kurt couldn't help but wish they were really singing and dancing through the streets of New York (though he could do without the drag). "_Just slip me on, I'll be your blanket. Wherever, whatever, I'll be your coat_."

"_You'll be my king, and I'll be your castle_." This song was perfect. Kurt didn't even have to change the key, he could just sing as he always did, and it ft perfectly.

"_No, you'll be my queen, and I'll be your moat_." From what he knew of Blaine, Kurt could imagine the well-mannered Dalton boy treating whoever he dated like a queen on a pedestal.. it was definitely an appealing thought.

"_I think they meant it when they said you can't buy love, now I know you can rent it. A new lease you are, my love, on life, all my life. I've longed to discover something as true as this is._" Kurt got the feeling he wasn't the only one singing _to_ someone anymore.

"_So with a thousand sweet kisses, I'll cover you. With a thousand sweet kisses, I'll cover you. When you're worn out and tired, when your heart has expired.._" Blaine sang at the same time Kurt sang, "_If you're cold and you're lonely, you've got one nickel only. With a thousand sweet kisses, I'll cover you. With a thousand sweet kisses, I'll cover you_."

"_Oh, lover, I'll cover you. Oh, lover, I'll cover you_." Kurt was so caught up in the moment he almost leaned forward and kissed Blaine before the tenor cleared his throat.

"Everyone's staring at us," Blaine muttered, and Kurt looked around to discover the truth of his statement. Apparently, they hadn't been so great on volume control, and now more of the audience was watching them than the play. The actors hadn't looked over, but they were probably annoyed.

"Whoops," Kurt muttered, and Blaine stifled his laughter in his hand, turning back to the play. He had a wonderful ability to just pretend this never happened, and Kurt was going to do the same thing.

Just as Kurt leaned back to watch the actors (who probably hated them now, for being more talented. Oh well), the elderly couple that was behind them leaned forward and whispered between them. "You two are a very cute couple, but if you wouldn't mind not talking, we would really appreciate it."

"We're not-" Kurt was about to correct them on their labeling Kurt and Blaine a couple when Blaine cut in.

"Thank you. Sorry, we'll try and keep the volume down, we got a little distracted." Kurt looked over at Blaine after he said that, and Blaine shrugged. Was the label correct? or did labels just not bother Blaine?

"_Over the Moon_ is so out there," Blaine muttered, and apparently they were acting as if none of that had happened. Fine, Kurt would bring it up later if Blaine was determined to ignore it. "I wish we were watching Idina Menzel perform it."

"Especially considering her husband played the part she was insulting," Kurt added. "I love _La Vie Boheme_ too."

"I know. I've always wanted to do that with a group of people. All that energy and the joking, talking so fast, it seems like so much fun." Kurt agreed wholeheartedly.

"I've always thought this song was so romantic." Blaine sounded almost wistful. "It's like they were completely on the same wavelength and ready to share everything with each other, no matter how scared they were that the other would reject them with their flaws."

"Yeah," Kurt replied, not knowing what else to say.

"_Trusting desire, starting to learn. Walking through fire without a burn_," Blaine sang, but it was much more softly than they had sung _I'll Cover You_. Blaine 'aww'ed quietly as Mimi and Roger shared a kiss.

"So, we-" Kurt started as the lights went up at the end of the first act.

"One second, I have to use the loo." Blaine bolted out of his seat, one of the first ones out of the theatre, leaving Kurt alone with his thoughts. Blaine seemed determined not to talk about whatever had happened with _I'll Cover You_.

Kurt pulled out his phone so it would look like he was doing something, and noticed he had a sole text from Mercedes, dated from about twenty minutes ago.

From: Mercedes**  
>'How r things going?'<strong>

To: Mercedes_  
>'Good. The first act just ended, and Blaine's in the bathroom. I honestly still can't tell if this is a date or not, but I'm worried it's not<em>.'

From: Mercedes**  
>'Oh, 4 Pete's sake! Ask the boy, or ur never gonna know.'<strong>

To: Mercedes_  
>'What if he says no? What if he *laughs* at me and says he would never in a million years date me?'<em>

From: Mercedes**  
>'Bo, ur being ridiculous. That's not gonna happen.'<strong>

To: Mercedes_  
>'Well, whatever it is will probably be very clear at the end of the night.'<em>

From: Mercedes**  
>'U do realize sum people don't kiss on the 1st date, right?'<strong>

To: Mercedes_  
>'I don't get the feeling Blaine's one of those people.'<em>

"Hey, sorry. Who are you talking to?" Blaine came back just as Kurt slid his phone back inside his pocket.

"Mercedes. She wanted to know how I liked the show." Not strictly accurate, but that technically _could_ be one interpretation of what she asked.

"What did you say? Personally, I love it. I mean, it might not be the greatest cast, but there's Josh Hutcherson, and they staged it really well," Blaine said, and it was clear he was looking for approval.

"Yeah, that's pretty much what I said to Mercedes too," Kurt lied. That would be what he _would_ have said to Mercedes if she cared about that.

"I'm still worried she's going to kill me tomorrow," Blaine said with a laugh.

"She won't. You like Broadway and fashion, and are a generally agreeable person. As long as you don't piss her off you'll live through the dinner intact," Kurt promised. Honestly, he wouldn't _let_ Mercedes 'take Blaine to the carpet' (whatever that meant), he liked the tenor too much.

"Okay, I'll survive. Look, perfect timing," Blaine said as the lights went down. Kurt's phone buzzed again in his pocket, but he ignored it, even though he knew he would regret that later.

_Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes  
>Five hundred, twenty-five thousand moments so dear<br>Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes  
>How do you measure, measure a year?<em>

The second act was much of the same, Blaine and Kurt making comments and softly singing random pieces of songs. The elderly couple behind them had apparently given up on yelling at them, and was now just enjoying the commentary.

"Sell us your soul.. just kidding," Blaine quoted along with Miss Alexi Darling, and Kurt laughed. Like she was really kidding.

"I think Joanne and Maureen could have done _Take Me or Leave Me_ much better," Kurt commented, and Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Remember who you're comparing them to. Trying to cover an Idina Menzel song is no easy task." Kurt huffed.

"If I can sing _Defying Gravity_, they should be able to manage _Take Me or Leave Me_," Kurt said firmly, and Blaine looked at him in surprise.

"You can hit a high F?" he asked.

"I'll tell you the story later," Kurt said as the most awkward song of the entire musical started.

_Hot-hot-hot-sweat-sweet  
>Wet-wet-wet-red-heat<br>Hot-hot-hot-sweat-sweet  
>Wet-wet-wet-red-heat<em>

Blaine looked over at Kurt, who was blushing and pointedly not looking at the tenor. Somehow, they had both forgotten all about this song, and how embarrassing it would be to sit side by side and watch and listen to it. Blaine felt his face heat up as Maureen yelled 'harder!' and Angel yelled 'faster!'

Kurt was humiliated. This song wasn't in the movie, it had never occurred to him that it would be in the play. Now he was sitting next to the guy of his dreams listening to a countertenor scream 'take me!' on stage.

Thankfully the song was short, and by the time they were saying 'it's over', neither boy could look the other in the eye. "Angel's funeral is so touching," Blaine said, pointedly not looking at the flushed boy next to him.

"It's so inappropriate for them to fight about love after Angel's funeral when one of their friends has just lost the love of his life," Kurt replied, not looking at Blaine either, knowing his cheeks were still fire truck red.

"Yeah. I like how they all figure out what's important though. _What You Own_ is one of my favorite songs, I used to sing it all the time with my brother. _And when you're dying in America at the tend of the millennium, you're not alone!_" he sang along with Mark and Roger.

"I love _Your Eyes_," Kurt said, and Blaine nodded in agreement, looking over at Kurt for the first time since _Contact_.

"There's so much you can learn about a person from their eyes," Blaine agreed, and Blaine's hazel eyes caught Kurt's glasz for a moment as he said this before Blaine looked away.

"Yeah," Kurt murmured, trying not to cry as Mimi woke up and talked about what Angel had said to her at the end of the tunnel.

"You can cry, you know," Blaine said, surprising him. "I was warned." Kurt thumped him lightly on the arm, wiping away his tears. Blaine reached again from his hand, rubbing circles on the back of his hand with his thumb.

"_There's only us, there's only this. Forget regret, or life is yours to miss_," Kurt sang and Blaine joined in for the last part. "_Nor other road, no other way, no day but today_." Kurt gave Blaine a watery smile as Blaine squeezed his hand.

* * *

><p>"That was.. amazing," Kurt said as Blaine requested a table for two from the maître d'hôtel.<p>

"Intense," Blaine agreed as they were being lead to their seats.

"The only thing I didn't like about it was that.. scene in the middle of Act II, you know, the song with the dancing and the sheet." Kurt didn't really want to have to specify, but Blaine knew what he was talking about.

"Yeah, _Contact_. I always forget about that one because it seems so out of place in the play. I don't really think it fits in with the style of the rest of the songs, but who am I to judge?" Blaine asked, slipping into one side of their booth as Kurt slipped into the other.

"I agree with you," Kurt said, trying not to reveal how embarrassed he'd been. After all it was a natural, loving act between two people. He just really didn't need to see it on the stage in front of him (yes, he was overreacting, but he couldn't help it).

The waiter came to take their drink orders as Blaine stretched. "Sitting down for that long is so annoying, I can't believe you didn't get up for intermission."

"It was a short intermission. Plus, Mercedes wanted to live vicariously through me. It's so nice getting out of Lima sometimes," Kurt admitted as he did some stretching of his own.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I had to go through so much red tape to actually be let out for the night, it was ridiculous. My RA is going to be so mad when I'm back at like three in the morning." Blaine rolled his eyes. "Oh well."

"Sorry," Kurt said, feeling silly for apologizing, but also feeling like it was necessary.

"Definitely not your fault. Plus, my RA really can't do anything about it," Blaine said with his typical mischievous grin. "Now, I believe you owe me a story about _Defying Gravity_."

"It's nothing, really. Just a little diva-off between Rachel and I that I ended up throwing for external reasons." Blaine raised his triangular eyebrows and Kurt knew he wouldn't get out of telling Blaine the story. "Mr. Schuester immediately handed _Defying Gravity_ to Rachel when he decided that we should do some Broadway standards. I requested to audition for the part and was rudely shot down without a second thought."

"Is your director stupid?" Blaine asked, the first time he'd shown any ounce of emotion during the story. To his credit, he didn't ask why Kurt was giving all of this back story, automatically assuming that if Kurt offered the information, it was important to the story. "Didn't anyone back you up?"

Kurt took a sip of his freshly-brought water before replying, "No one in the club had really heard me sing up to this point because I never got solos. Later, I admitted to my dad that I was sad I couldn't audition for the part, and he went into the school without telling me. He threatened to take a _flamethrower _to the school if Mr. Schuester didn't let me audition. Mr. Schue obviously had no choice but to say yes."

"As he should have in the first place," Blaine pointed out. "No one should be denied their right to audition for a solo."

"Nevertheless, I spent a fair amount of time practicing for the diva-off, excited that I was going to get a chance to best Rachel. Unfortunately, that didn't quite happened."

"What happened?" Blaine asked, obviously realizing Kurt was going to try and avoid giving him details. Kurt did stall as they placed their orders, but ended up telling Blaine what had happened to make him blow his big chance for a solo.

"My father got a call at the garage, a less than complimentary call about me. People have called our house a lot, so I always try to get to the phone first and pretend it's a telemarketer, but they had never gone this particular route. I could tell Dad was upset after school that day and he told me about the call. I knew that if I went up for the solo and sang the song in front of a thousand people, there would be more calls like that, and my dad couldn't handle it." Kurt shrugged.

"So, you blew the audition. Rachel got the solo, and you just dealt with that?" Blaine asked, and he sounded a bit incredulous.

"I'm not enough of a diva to not be able to handle not having _one solo_. Plus, no one ever ended up singing it, and it hasn't been mentioned since." Why _Defying Gravity_ had never been on the table when they were trying to come up with a ballad for Sectionals after the disastrous set-list-stealing incident, Kurt didn't know. Maybe it didn't fit the technical definition of a ballad.

"And you have once again proven to me that in no way will your club ever be a threat. If your director's really that stupid, I don't think we have to worry." Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Mr. Schuester can pick all the horrible songs with all the wrong singers and we'll still win, because everyone in our club has talent. There's no pretty boy front man," Kurt teased his friend, who smiled.

"Everyone in our club has talent too, and we showcase _all_ of our talent all the time. You really have no chance," Blaine said with a smirk.

"I suppose only time will tell," Kurt decided as their food arrived. "So, what's everyone in that crazy dorm of yours been up to?"

"Unfortunately, this very night is the talk of the town. Charlie is _convinced _that this is a date and we're going to get married and have fabulous, fashionable babies with great voices. Somehow, he managed to convince everyone else." Blaine rolled his eyes. "As if."

Kurt's stomach sunk. Blaine had more than volunteered the fact that this wasn't a date. Now he wasn't so sure that if he had asked, Blaine wouldn't have laughed. He was certainly laughing about it now. "Is everyone you know certifiably insane?" Kurt asked, but his heart wasn't in the joke.

"Yes, pretty much. What's everyone up to at McKinley?" Kurt explained all about the tater tot strike (which made Blaine snort water out of his nose. Even doing that, he was still cute) and Coach Sylvester's more strict health policies.

"I'm not sure who's more interesting at your school, the teachers or the students. How is it that your crazy cheerleading coach hasn't been fired yet?" Blaine asked. Kurt had no good answer for him.

"I don't know, but I've officially decided that we make a better Angel and Collins than even the originals," Kurt said, trying to force the conversation in the direction he had planned for it.

"Of course we do. You can hit notes that Wilson Jermaine Heredia couldn't _dream_ of hitting, and I'm just phenomenal," Blaine said with a wide gin. "I'm pretty sure we managed to piss off everyone in the theatre though."

"I guess we got a little loud there," Kurt said, prompting Blaine to say more.

"It happens when you get caught up in trying to portray the emotions of a song. I was just surprised that the managers didn't react at all, and neither did the actors. Even if they weren't very good, they did manage to stay in character quite well." Kurt nodded in absentminded agreement. Blaine clearly refused to acknowledge the tension that had been in the air as they sang, but that was all right. It's not like it mattered. They weren't on a date.

* * *

><p>"So, I'd use anything but the stereotypical 'I had a great time tonight' line, but I'm frankly too dead on my feet to say anything else," Blaine's words jolted Kurt from his sleep.<p>

Yawning and blinking away his disorientation, Kurt realized that he had fallen asleep on their ride home, leaving Blaine to keep himself awake. "I'm sorry, Blaine." Blaine gave Kurt a soft smile.

"It's all right. You needed the sleep. I was fine, and I'll be fine for driving home. Then I'll sleep until two and still be back in plenty of time to meet you and Mercedes for dinner." Kurt nodded. What he had heard of that statement sounded good, but he had almost fallen asleep while Blaine was talking. "Kurt, go inside and go to bed."

"Yes, sir," Kurt mumbled sleepily as he reached for the car lock. Blaine, smiling to himself, popped the car locks from his side and leaned over to give Kurt an awkward hug, ignoring the console between them. Kurt relaxed into his arms, still sleepy, sniffing some of Blaine's cologne and humming contentedly.

As soon as Blaine let him go, Kurt slipped out of the car and stumbled into the house. Thankfully, almost braining himself on the door was enough to wake him up, and Kurt was able to take his keys from his pocket and unlock the house.

Burt had fallen asleep in his chair, the TV blaring some old episode of _Top Gear_. "Dad! Wake up! You'll hurt your back sleeping like that." Kurt shook his dad awake, yawning again. He was not made to get less than eight hours of sleep.

"Hey, kiddo. How was your date?" His dad was pretending he hadn't fallen asleep waiting for Kurt to come home, so Kurt went along with it.

"I'll say it again, dad, it wasn't a date, but it was fun. The show was really good, and we had fun." Burt nodded.

"Good, get to bed, you look dead on your feet." Kurt nodded in agreement, yawning for the third time.

"I slept all the way home and I'm _still_ tired."

Burt looked like he was considering something for a second before he asked, "Will that kid be all right getting home? He can stay here if he really needs to, as long as he's far, far away from your room." Kurt shook his head at the offer.

"Blaine will be fine. He has loud music and endless energy. I'm going to bed," Kurt said at last, heading for his basement, glad he knew the stairs so well he could descend them in his sleep, because he practically was.

Knowing that he would hate himself in the morning for doing so, but not caring, Kurt skipped his moisturizing routine, pulling on a warm sweatshirt for pajamas as he curled into his 400-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets under his down comforter.

He checked his phone one last time before he went to bed (as he always did), and found a text from Mercedes. Well, several texts from Mercedes, but most of them were abuse for not answering one of her earlier texts. There was one important one.

From: Mercedes**  
>'How did the date go? Did he pay for everything?'<strong>

Rolling his eyes, but knowing he'd be in even more trouble with her if he didn't answer, Kurt texted her back.

To: Mercedes_  
>'It wasn't a date, but he did pay for everything: the show, dinner, and parking, plus gas.'<em>

From: Mercedes**  
>'How do you know it wasnt a date? Did you ask him?'<strong>

To: Mercedes_  
>'Didn't have to. He was rolling his eyes and calling his friends crazy for suggesting that it was a date. If I had asked, he probably would have laughed.'<em>

Kurt was too tired to be upset about any of the things he was telling Mercedes. Blaine had been nothing but polite and courteous all night, paying for everything. He hadn't really done anything _wrong_.

From: Mercedes**  
>'Aw, bo, Im sorry. We still on for.. well, I guess its tonight now?'<strong>

To: Mercedes_  
>'You bet. I'm going to bed now, or I will fall asleep on you. Goodnight honey.'<em>

From: Mercedes**  
>'Goodnight, bo<strong>.'

* * *

><p>"You look great for someone on five hours of sleep," Mercedes commented as Kurt hopped out of the Navigator in front of BreadstiX.<p>

"Mercedes, I always look fabulous." They were here ten minutes before they were supposed to meet Blaine, just so he wouldn't be the first one there, having no idea what to do with himself.

"I know, but that's an impressive feat for anyone. Of course, it's not like you're getting dressed up for anyone in _particular_," Mercedes teased, and Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I thought I made it very clear that Blaine and I are not, in fact, dating." Mercedes swatted at his arm (as she always did when he rolled his eyes at her).

"Doesn't mean you're not chasin'. Plus, just because last night wasn't a date, doesn't mean he's not interested," Mercedes pointed out, always the optimist.

"True, but shush! He's here," Kurt pointed towards the now familiar SUV that was the car Blaine always drove to Lima (he had another car, a smaller one, but he apparently liked this one more. Kurt was too busy being jealous that he had two cars to listen to the different reasons he used them).

"Nice car," Mercedes said appreciatively.

"You should see his _house_ if you like that." Kurt hadn't mentioned Blaine's mansion to her (after all, it made him sound like a gold digger, chasing after a wealthy guy).

"So he can sing and he's loaded, let's see if he's actually as cute as you say he is." Kurt looked at her, surprised she hadn't seen the picture in his locker, but she was totally focused on Blaine as he got out of the car. "He's.. short," was all she said, earning her another look.

"Really? That's what you're focusing on?" Kurt's question was, why the hell was he in uniform on a Saturday? He hadn't been the night before (and he certainly had some style that would have impressed Mercedes).

"What the hell is that boy wearin'?" Mercedes noticed what he had.

"It's the Dalton uniform. I have no idea why he's wearing it, but trust me, he's got style. You should have seen the outfit he was in last night. _So_ cute." Before Kurt could finish his diatribe, Blaine walked up to greet the two.

"What's so cute?" Blaine asked, eager to be involved in the conversation. Kurt couldn't help but notice that he looked nervous behind the mask he always worse.

"Tristan MacManus' butt," Kurt replied, and Blaine grinned. "Mercedes, this is Blaine Anderson. Blaine, the one-and-only Miss Mercedes Jones."

"Enchanté," Blaine said with a smile, kissing Mercedes' hand.

"Damn, gay boy's got _moves_," Mercedes said and Blaine chuckled.

Smiling at how well his friends got along, Kurt quickly walked in to the restaurant, confident the other two would follow. "Table for three please," he asked the annoyed-looking maître d'hôtel, who walked off without a word.

"Do we follow her?" Blaine asked, and Kurt had no good answer, so he shrugged and did. The maître d'hôtel was waiting by a table, tapping her foot. Mercedes sat on one side of the booth and Blaine on the other, putting Kurt in a tight place until Mercedes jerked her head towards Blaine as a silent 'sit over there, fool!' "So, what do they even sell here?" Blaine asked, as they had no menus yet.

"Everything, and most of the food's pretty decent. Steer clear of the breadsticks though." Mercedes nodded solemnly along with Kurt's words, and Blaine raised his eyebrows.

"_Okay_," he said, drawing the word out. Just before he could say anything else, a waiter popped up next to them.

"Hello, I'm Michael and I'll be your server for the evening. What would y'all like to drink?" After everyone placed their orders, Michael disappeared.

"So, the Buckeyes are playing the Gators as we speak." Earning two identical blank looks from the other occupants of the table, Blaine tried again. "They're still working on getting rid of 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell', but they're not making very much progress. I mean, people are simply too bigoted to realize there are no straight men in the trenches."

"I think you mean atheists." Blaine responded with a wink and Kurt laughed.

"I've always thought that policy was ridiculous. What gives voters the right to tell people that want to help their country that they can't? What gives voters the right to be involved at all? If there really is an issue, it should be handled totally within the military."

"I know, right? It's none of my business is one private is gay and another is straight, I'm just glad I don't get bombed in my bed at night. Think about it, if the majority of the military isn't bothered by having gay men and women serve, why is it any of our business?" Blaine sounded so frustrated, and Kurt understood.

"Exactly! The excuse they use is that the military 'represents American citizens'. Yeah, and they represent American citizens just as well if they include as many minorities as possible!" There was no reason that ridiculous law had anything to do with military representation.

"America is the melting pot of the world, after all. That includes people of every sexuality, as well as every race!" Blaine said, and Kurt couldn't agree more.

"If people want to serve, they should have the right to! The more people we have protecting us, the better. Gay, straight, if they made it through military training what's the difference?" People were trained to survive in the military equally, their sexuality mattered about as much as the color of their skin.

"Exactly. They say that the policy is fine because it's not technically outlawing gay citizens from serving, but it's impacting those that do. How would straight military members feel if they couldn't kiss their wives before they left, unsure if they would ever come back? Exactly the same way gay military men and woman feel when their loved ones can't come to see them off, and give them one last hug and kiss." That had always struck a poignant note with Kurt.

"Right, and then if they _are_ found out, it's _dishonorable_ discharge. They make it seem like they did something horribly wrong to be kicked out of the military, but all they did was reveal an aspect of their personality that they couldn't change. It's horrendous!" Kurt said. "Thank you," he directed towards their waiter as he brought them drinks and menus.

"I know. Did you hear California's going to be working on Prop 8 again sometime this month?" Blaine asked, scanning through the menu. Kurt already knew what he wanted.

"Really?" Kurt asked. "I would think after what happened with the Supreme Court they would want to wait a bit and figure out a better strategy."

"Apparently not," Blaine said with a shrug. "After all, they almost had it. The defendants at the Supreme Court level really couldn't say why they consider gay marriage so bad in words, it was by sheer luck that they won. With the right type of arguments, they could easily win a case like that."

"I mean, why do they consider gay marriages so bad?" Kurt asked. "They have no reasoning behind it. There are plenty of things that are more of an insult to marriage than two people who have been together for years and sometime have kids, finally having the right to call themselves married." They stopped their conversation for a moment to order and hand in their menus before Blaine responded.

"You say this like you're expecting me to disagree with you," Blaine said, taking a sip of whatever fruity drink he had gotten.

"I'm just saying that drunk people who get married to someone they met an hour ago by an Elvis impersonator, I mean, that's a bigger insult to marriage than two gay guys getting hitched." It was so nice to talk to someone that really understood where he was coming from about issues like this.

"Totally. It's, like, if marriage is so sacred, they should just outlaw divorce." Finally! Someone got it.

"Right?" Kurt asked, glad someone finally understood his ideas, laughing out of sheer relief.

"Right," Blaine replied, laughing with him.

"What do you think, Mercedes?" Kurt asked, noticing she had been awfully quiet.

"Oh, about, uh, 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell'?" Mercedes asked, snapped out of whatever zone she had been in.

"No, we're on Prop 8 now," Kurt said, wondering where she had been in her head.

"Totally for it." Homegirl say _what_?

"Against it," Kurt corrected.

"Right," Mercedes agreed. Geez, she really hadn't been listening. How rude. "I'm sorry, I kind of just blanked out."

"Oh, don't apologize, we should talk about stuff that you're interested in, too." Blaine was such the perfect gentleman.

"I know! Let's play a game," Kurt said, automatically thinking of something they all loved. "Okay, on the count of three, name your favorite 2012 _Vogue_ cover." Perfect, all three of them read _Vogue_. "Okay, ready? One, two, three.."

"Marion Cotillard," Blaine and Kurt said at the same time. "Yes!" Kurt said, loving that they agreed on everything, at the same time Blaine said, "Oh, my God, stop it!"

"Yes, I know. She's amazing!" Mercedes was seeing all of this, right? How perfect he and Blaine were together?

"Amazing!" Blaine agreed. "She's just so gorgeous, she was on the _Vogue Paris_ cover too, and she looked phenomenal."

"You saw that too. She was wearing just a little bit too much eye makeup for my taste, but I loved the sharp black-and-white contrast of everything with the blue lettering." Kurt could picture the cover clear as day in his head.

"I know, right? She looked phenomenal. Her dress on the American _Vogue_ was just a little too... low-cut for my taste," Blaine said with a grimace and Kurt couldn't help but giggle.

"I know. Try walking about a public high school every day. I mean, come on, guys like a _little_ bit of mystery. They lean over you can practically see all the way down, right, Mercedes?" Kurt looked over at Mercedes to see her staring at him with a perplexed expression. "Mercedes?" Kurt asked again. "Mercedes?" Kurt asked yet again. Earth to Mercedes, you're being rude.

"I was just talking about the Buckeyes," Blaine said. Well, he hadn't been, but he was probably checking the game on his phone while Kurt was trying to bring his best friend back from LaLa Land. "I'm a college football fan. I like sports, too, you know." Oh, poor Blaine. He was trying way too hard.

"Oh, way to break the stereotype," Kurt said, trying to make him seem less awkward, slapping him a high-five.

"Excuse me, I know it's not on your menu, but I was wondering if you guys had-" Mercedes addressed a waitress as she walked by.

"You want some tots?" the waitress asked, interrupting her. Mercedes nodded, clearly thrilled by the offer. "You kids must go to McKinley." Kurt raised an eyebrow in Mercedes' direction as the waitress walked off.

"So, what ere we talking about?" Mercedes asked with a smile.

"Has anyone read Patti Lupone's new book?" Kurt asked, hoping that Blaine had. After all, he must love her as much as Kurt did if he loved Broadway. There was a moment of silence as they both awkwardly looked around, then looked at each other.

"I'm kidding," Blaine said in response to Kurt's incredulous look. "Of course I have."

"You scared me so much there," Kurt said, taking advantage of their mutual laughter to lean close to Blaine for a second.

"I know, I meant to," Blaine said, nudging Kurt's shoulder with his.

"Now, since we're talking about style so much, I have to ask: why are you wearing that?" Kurt gestured to Blaine's blazer as if it were a disgrace.

"Remember me saying my RA would be mad if I showed up at three in the morning?" Blaine asked, and Kurt nodded. "Well, his punishment for me was not letting me out of the uniform for the next month. Which really isn't that bad, of course, because it only amounts to eight days that I could be wearing something else, but he's still _steamed_." Blaine shrugged. "Hence, the blazer."

"What a travesty against fashion. I apologize." Blaine shrugged again.

"It's no big deal, it couldn't be avoided. I guarantee by the end of the month Thad will get over it."

"What was the name again?" Mercedes asked, sounding as confused as Kurt felt.

"Thad van Heusner," Blaine said with a grin.

"You have got to be kidding me," the two best friends said at the same time.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And there's your new chapter. What do you think of **_**RENT**_**? What do you think Mercedes will say about Blaine? How mad are you at me for the long period in between updates. Drop a review and let me know. So, it's 3 AM, and I have to be up for class at 6 AM... guess who needs lots of coffee? This chick!  
><strong>

**Songs used/mentioned (here we go):**_  
>'Defying Gravity'<em> from Wicked

All from _RENT _(in order, you're welcome):_  
>'Tune Up #1'<br>'Voice Mail #1'  
>'Rent'<br>'You Okay Honey?'  
>'One Song Glory'<br>'Light My Candle'  
>'Today 4 U'<br>'Tango: Maureen'  
>'Out Tonight'<br>'Another Day'  
>'Will I?'<br>'Santa Fe'  
>'I'll Cover You'<br>'Over the Moon'  
>'La Vie Boheme'<br>'I Should Tell You'  
>'Seasons of Love'<br>'Take Me or Leave Me'  
>'Voice Mail #4'<br>'Contact'  
>'I'll Cover You (Reprise)'<br>'Halloween'  
>'What You Own'<br>'Your Eyes'  
>'Finale B'<em>

**Reviews are Love.**


	8. It's Rainin', Rainin'

To: Mercedes  
><em>'So, what did you think of Blaine?'<em>

Kurt had rigorously scrubbed and moisturized his face in an attempt to make up for his laziness the previous night, and was now desperate to know what his friend had been thinking during their dinner. Mercedes had seemed apathetic and preoccupied, which was completely rude, but hopefully she wasn't acting that way out of some deep, completely unreasonable dislike of Blaine.

From: Mercedes  
><strong>'He seems.. fine.'<strong>

To: Mercedes  
><em>'All right, what's wrong?'<em>

From: Mercedes  
><strong>'Nothing's wrong, I just don't see why you've been going on and on about him like he's the next Justin Timberlake. The only person he reminded me of is Jesse.'<strong>

To: Mercedes  
><em>'What happened to "everyone would be happy for me"? Where did <em>that_ Mercedes go? Blaine's nothing like Jesse. What's really going on with you?'_

From: Mercedes  
><strong>'Whatever, bo. You asked, I answered. I don't like him, he's nothing special, and if I were you, I'd break it off with him.'<strong>

To: Mercedes  
><em>'Why do you not like him?'<em>

From: Mercedes  
><strong>'Look, bo, think whatever you want, I still love you. I'm just not all that fond of him. I'll see you in school tomorrow? I'm tired.'<strong>

To: Mercedes  
><em>'Fine.'<em>

From: Mercedes  
><strong>'Still besties?'<strong>

To: Mercedes  
><em>'Still besties.'<em>

Kurt threw his phone down next to his bed. Of course he and Mercedes were still best friends, but he couldn't understand why she was acting this way about Blaine. Did she not see how perfect they were for each other? Did she not see how much Kurt cared about him? For a wonderful girl, she was being a lousy best friend.

* * *

><p>Kurt looked through his locker, thoroughly annoyed with the world at this point. That morning, for the first time in over a year, he had visited the inside of a dumpster, courtesy of Karofsky and his goons. He was now on his third outfit of the day, and he honestly just wanted to go home.<p>

"Psst." He head a whisper from next to him and, knowing who it had to be, opened his locker more so that he could look at Mercedes. "Look what I snuck in." He was curious, in spite of how annoyed he still was with her. "My heart was racing," she said with a smile.

"Are you out of your mind?" he whispered, seriously concerned about her obsession with tots. She had never cared this much about any food, and she didn't even like tots that much! What was it that had her so obsessed? "After what you did to Sue's LeCar? You're gonna end up in prison!" He resisted the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she was making sense again.

"So?" Mercedes asked sassily. "You know what they have in prison? Tots," she said with a wide grin, holding up the container.

"I'm not breaking it off with Blaine," Kurt said as everything clicked inside his head. Her dislike of Blaine, her obsession with tots, all of it, it all made sense. "I _really _like him," he continued as Mercedes' face turned serious. "You are substituting food for love, Mercedes. And more importantly, you're substituting me for a boyfriend." Honestly, Kurt should have realized this months ago. Mercedes had been using him as a boyfriend ever since she had made the mistake of thinking they were dating. It hadn't bothered him before, probably because he had, in some way, been used Mercedes as a girlfriend, but now that he had a shot at a real relationship, their façade was coming apart.

"Look at me. Two weeks ago, I thought there was no way I'd ever find someone like Blaine.. and there he was! You _will_ find somebody." He grabbed her shoulder, feeling nothing but sympathy for his girl. She needed someone to love her in a way that he couldn't. "But, until then, you just got to take care of yourself, and treat yourself with a little respect."

"You're right," Mercedes said, gesturing with her bag of tots. "I got to go."

"Where?" This was usually what Mercedes did to him when she was mad at him, but she could never come up with a good excuse. Therefore, asking where was the perfect way to figure out if she was being legitimate or not.

"I'm gonna go talk to that Anthony kid. First time I saw him, I thought he was kind of cute. Maybe we have a shot." He had never seen Mercedes look more shy and hopeful, but he was so proud of her.

"Question for you!" Karofsky said suddenly from behind him as Mercedes walked away, grabbing his shoulder. Kurt tried not to shriek as he turned around, keeping his perfect poker face intact. "You tell anyone else what happened?" he asked, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one caught him talking to the fag. "How you-you kissed me?"

"You kissed me, Karofsky," Karofsky looked around again as Kurt said that, "and I understand how hard this is for you to deal with, so no. I haven't told anyone." Not anyone who would ever say anything to anyone, anyway. Besides, Karofsky already knew Blaine knew. Kurt wasn't angry anymore, wasn't scared, but resigned, knowing Karofsky had no other way to deal with his feelings than this.

"Good. You keep it that way. 'Cause if you do, I'm gonna kill you." Kurt's heart stopped, and he was frozen as Karofsky walked away. His free hand was shaking, the other one white-knuckling his bag. Karofsky didn't really mean it, couldn't really mean it...

* * *

><p>"So how was your date?" Charlie asked, plopping down next to Blaine at their usual lunch table with a grin.<p>

"If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, it was not a date," Blaine said firmly, taking a bite of his pizza and watching as grease dribbled off the edges of it.

"Oh really? So you didn't kiss him?" Charlie asked, sounding thoroughly disappointed. "Did he try to kiss you? Oh my _God_, Blaine Anderson, you better not have pushed him away. I will kill you," Charlie said very seriously.

"I didn't kiss him, he didn't try to kiss me. By the end of the night, he was too tired to give me a proper hug, let alone a goodnight kiss. He fell asleep on the car ride home," Blaine replied.

"How'd you wear him out so fast?" Charlie asked, his grin thoroughly predatory.

"Why must you make everything dirty?" Blaine asked in reply, and Charlie just shrugged. "To answer your question, by the time we returned to his house it was about one in the morning."

"I bet he's cute when he sleeps," Charlie said with a knowing smile, and Blaine rolled his eyes. To be honest, Kurt had been absolutely beautiful when he was asleep, curled up in his seat, face soft and relaxed, breathing softly, totally open... "You were totally just daydreaming about how cute he is when he sleeps, weren't you?"

"No," Blaine said petulantly, and Charlie grinned.

"Mentor, my ass, you're totally head-over-heels for him." Just before Blaine could answer Charlie, his phone rang. _I know you don't think that I am trying, I know you're wearing thin down to the core, but hold your breath, because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you, over again, don't make me change my mind- _"Right, you don't like him at all," Charlie said, knowing who it was as Blaine scrambled for the phone.

"Kurt, hey, what's up?" Blaine didn't get any response, but he could hear hitching breaths, too fast to be normal. "Kurt? Kurt, what's wrong?" More hyperventilating and a sob. "Kurt, did something happen with Karofsky?"

"I.. h-he," Kurt hitched a sob again, "he said he w-would kill me," Kurt whispered, and Blaine's heart fell like lead.

"Oh my gosh, Kurt..." but Kurt couldn't say anymore, as he started sobbing uncontrollably, breathe still hitching. "Kurt, I'm coming down there. Go to your car and stay there. Don't drive! Okay?" No response. "_Okay,_ Kurt?"

There was another sob before Kurt whispered, "O-okay," quietly and hung up.

"Shit, shit, shit, _shit_," Blaine lowered himself to swearing as he raced out of the cafeteria, paying no attention to the people he bumped into or the teachers (and Charlie) who tried to call him back.

* * *

><p>Cars were far too slow a method of transportation, Blaine decided as he pulled into the McKinley High parking lot, practically burning rubber and thanking any deity that was listening that no cop in Lima actually cared. Kurt's Navigator was in the farthest space from the school, and the tinted windows were shut.<p>

Blaine pulled into the space next to Kurt's and hopped out of his SUV, approaching the car with much more caution than he had taken with any turn or intersection between Dalton and Lima. Blaine knocked on the driver's window, getting no response. He was concerned to find the door unlocked.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked hesitantly as he opened the driver's side, but Kurt wasn't in the front. Blaine could hear hitching sobs from the back though, so he closed the driver's side as gently as he could and opened up the back.

The sight in the backseat broke his heart. Kurt was curled up in the fetal position, tears streaming down his face, and eyes so scared and lost they made Blaine's heart ache. "Oh, Kurt," he whispered softly, climbing into the car as gracefully as possible (which wasn't very considering how far the Navigator was off the ground) and scooting over to his best friend.

Kurt immediately slid over to him, climbing in his lap and wrapping his arms around Blaine's middle. Whatever had happened was obviously too horrible for words, because Kurt didn't offer a word of explanation before sinking into Blaine's shoulder and crying himself out.

It was probably about half an hour later when Kurt pulled himself together, climbing off Blaine's lap in a storm of elbows and knees, choosing to sit next to him instead and making no attempt to wipe away the tears covering his face.

Before Blaine could ask what happened, Kurt volunteered the information. "Karofsky came up to me and asked if I had told anyone. In the gentlest way possible I told him that I hadn't, and he... he said he would kill me if I did." Kurt's voice was small and scared, and Blaine was wishing the countertenor was back on his lap at this point.

"Kurt, I don't even know what to-"

"Do you think he would?" Kurt asked, his quiet voice cutting Blaine's off with ease. "Do you think he could kill me?"

Blaine took a moment to think about that, think about giving Kurt a white lie considering he looked about five seconds from a mental breakdown, but decided he deserved the truth. "I don't know, Kurt. He's really scared, and really volatile. Who knows what he could or would do?" The question was rhetorical, and Kurt didn't try to answer it.

"I'm sorry that I called you again as a severely mentally deranged person." Blaine chuckled at that one in spite of himself. "You must be getting tired of this."

"Kurt, you can _always_ call me," Blaine said seriously, and Kurt nodded. "Besides, being a delinquent is kind of fun," Blaine teased, and Kurt smiled weakly. "Kurt, are you okay?" A stupid question, he knew, but Kurt was acting... odd.

"No, not even a little bit, but the show must go on, right?" Kurt asked, and Blaine admired his strength more than ever. "I have Glee, I should go. Wouldn't want you guys to get the best of us at Sectionals because of me." Kurt smiled a little.

"I'd like to say I wouldn't dream of sabotaging your club, but I'm kind of debating locking you in here so you can't go to practice," Blaine said with a grin. He hated that Kurt had to push things back like this, but sometimes it was the only thing to do. "Call me, tonight?"

"I will," Kurt promised. "Thank you." Blaine smiled and hugged the boy so dear to him.

"Anytime," Blaine promised, giving Kurt one last hug before hopping out of the car.

Yes, Blaine of all people knew that pushing back your emotions never turns out well, but life had to go on, and sometimes things were so serious that the only medicine was time.

* * *

><p>Everyone cheered as Mr. Schuester walked to the front of the room. They didn't need to hear that he had been reinstated (news traveled fast), so they wouldn't give him a chance to say it. He was given a standing ovation (with the exception, of course, of Artie), and even Kurt managed a few enthused claps. As amazing as Miss Holiday had been, they did eventually need to get work done. They had Warblers to beat after all.<p>

"All right, all right. Thank you very much, guys. Please, please, sit down. Just... thank you, for that and.. and for all the kind words you said about me to Sue." At some point he was supposed to have given testimony to Principal Sue as well... whoops. "The feelings are mutual. Now, we got to get crackin', though. We lost a few days there, and it's all gonna be about focus and hard work for the next couple of days." And just like that, Mr. Schue was back to normal.

"I guess Miss Holiday really _is_ gone," Puck said, pouting from the back. Out of all the students in the club, he had gotten along with her the best. Realistically, he probably just wanted to bang her and never look back.

"I know you guys like her, and she was a lot of fun, but she and I both agreed that this is what was best," Mr. Schuester gave a lame attempt at consoling them, holding doubtlessly outdated sheet music.

"Don't get us wrong, Mr. Schue, we always want you as our teacher. She was just kind of a nice break," Tina said, and Mr. Schue was definitely someone one would need a break from.

"She did loosen us up," Quinn agreed.

"And she actually had some good ideas for a sub," Artie added. Why had they agreed they liked Mr. Schuester better?

"Yeah, I get it," Mr. Schue said harshly, forcing a laugh. "And maybe we can, uh, incorporate those _after _Sectionals." Mr. Schue began to hand out the dreaded sheet music. "Now, when I'm sick, there is only one thing that makes me feel better."

"Gin and juice," Artie said immediately.

"No. _Singin' in the Rain_," Mr. Schue announced just as Kurt got his copy of the sheet music for the title song. The only one who seemed excited was Brittany, but she probably didn't know what it is. "I must've watched it, like, ten times over the past few days." Had it only been a few days? "It's actually what inspired me to try this out as a contender for our first song at Sectionals."

"When is the song from?" Sam asked, and Kurt was kind of insulted that he didn't remember that from the first conversation they had ever had.

"Well, the movie opened in 1952, but-but... but it's... but it's really timeless." Mr. Schuester was stuttering and chuckling like an adolescent girl on her first date which meant one thing: he was lying.

"I guess we could attempt it," Rachel said brightly. She was probably just happy that the teacher who preferred her and her suckish attitude was back and ready to kiss her butt. "Finn and Sam could be the leads, and we could do backup on the choruses..." As usual, the rest of the club began to tune her out at about this point.

"You all right, bo?" Mercedes whispered to him, turning around in her seat as Rachel ranted to deaf ears.

"Fine. How did your talk with Anthony go?" Kurt asked, trying to summon the enthusiasm he had previously had for his matchmaking.

Mercedes shrugged before she answered. "He's nice, just not my flavor of man, if you catch my drift." In all honesty, Kurt had no idea what she was referring to, but he smiled anyway.

"You'll find someone, Mercedes, I know it. Even if I have to handpick him," Kurt swore.

"What about you? Have you talked to your _beau_ since you decided you're not giving up on him?" Mercedes asked, and she sounded much happier for him than she had been in the hallway that morning.

"Briefly," Kurt replied. It wasn't a lie, they hadn't done very much talking.

"Mr. Schue," Sam cut into Rachel's diatribe, drawing everyone's attention. "No offense to your medicine or anything, but I don't want to do this song. It's too old-fashioned for me."

"Finn wants to do it, don't you, Finn?" Rachel said immediately, obviously annoyed that Sam had interrupted her. _No one_ interrupted her, at least not in her mind.

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Kurt chuckled to himself. He knew very well that was Finn's reply whenever he wasn't listening and just wanted to please the person talking to him.

"Sam, if you don't want to sing it, Finn would be more than happy to take the full lead. After all, he _is_ the most talented guy in Glee club," Rachel said with pride. How had no one burst her bubble about that yet? As much as Kurt cared about Finn, he was far from the most talented guy in the room.

"That sounds great, Rachel. Now, I was thinking you and Finn could do a duet for Sectionals, with a little help from Mercedes of course." Mercedes and Kurt looked at each other and rolled their eyes in sync as Mr. Schue said that, and continued with his 'brainstorming session'. Of course, the only ones who suggested anything were Mr. Schue and Rachel, but was that really important?

* * *

><p>Kurt stared uneasily at his phone. He knew Blaine's number by heart now, had talked to him so much in the past... how long had it been? It couldn't have been longer than two weeks.<p>

This, however, would be the worst conversation they had ever had over the phone. What was Kurt supposed to say? He would be stupid if he wasn't scared of how volatile Karofsky was, and Blaine would apologize and try to comfort him, but there was really nothing Blaine could say to make it any better.

Before he could fret anymore about how the conversation was going to turn out, Blaine's name popped up on his screen, accompanied by it's usual loud ring (no personalized ring tone. Yes, Kurt was enamored enough to have one, but he hadn't thought of the perfect one. _Teenage Dream_ would work, but it's not... _them_).

"Hey," Blaine said. "I assume you were planning on calling me at some point?" Blaine was talking in his usual easy tone, as if someone hadn't threatened the life of the person he was talking to that very day.

"Yeah, sorry, I was kind of..."

"Lost in thought?" Blaine supplied, and Kurt smiled at how well the tenor knew him. "I can't blame you, it's not like you don't have a lot on your mind."

"Blaine, I don't want to talk about-" Kurt said as he decided, but Blaine cut him off again.

"I figured. After all, what can we do but speculate? If you ever do want to talk, or something happens, you know you can always call me, right?" Blaine asked firmly, in the tone that always made Blaine seem a little like a parent.

"I'm pretty sure you reminded me of that several times today," Kurt said with a smile. Even if they weren't discussing what Kurt wad upset about, talking to Blaine always made him feel better.

"Just making sure," Blaine said, and Kurt could hear the smile in his voice. "So how was your day?" One of the wonderful things about Blaine was that he didn't push. One of the not-so-wonderful things about Blaine: he often had severe cases of foot-in-mouth.

"How do you think my day was?" Kurt asked rather dryly, and there was silence on the other side of the line as Blaine figured out his mistake.

"I'm an idiot, aren't I?"

"In more ways than one," Kurt said before he could help himself, but Blaine let it slide.

"So, considering you called me today, I'm guessing I got the a-okay from Mercedes?" Blaine asked, trying to hide how nervous he was.

"It took some convincing, but I believe I have her permission, if not quite her blessing. Let's just say I realized exactly how co-dependent we've been when I started pulling away." Kurt refrained from telling Blaine all the substituting Mercedes had been doing. It wouldn't make sense because Blaine didn't know her like Kurt did.

"So... she hates me?" Blaine asked, and Kurt couldn't help but laugh.

"No, she doesn't. She just feels like she's being replaced."

Kurt and Blaine continued to talk, late enough that even Kurt's very easy-going dad told him to get off the phone and go to bed. Everything was the same between them, and Kurt wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

* * *

><p>"So what the hell was that?" Charlie asked as he barged into Blaine's dorm room around midnight.<p>

"I could have been sleeping you know," Blaine said, although he hadn't been. He had been on the phone with Kurt and for the past ten minutes or so he had been waiting for Charlie to barge through the door like he just did. One thing about Charlie he knew absolutely certainly: he was insatiably curious. Not to say that he was predictable, of course.

"But you weren't. Which brings us back to: what the hell was that?" Charlie asked again, hands flying to his hips and green eyes flashing.

"You could be a little more specific," Blaine replied, even though he knew exactly what Charlie was talking about. After all, it had only lead to the most important events of his day.

"The seemingly-hysterical phone call from your lover that caused you to miss yet _another_ set of afternoon classes. I'm not sure if I should be proud or concerned." Blaine sighed. Charlie just wasn't giving off.

"Do you even understand the vibe that someone doesn't want to discuss something with you?" Blaine asked rhetorically.

"Yes, and I pointedly ignore it, like I am right now. Spill," Charlie said, snapping his fingers like a bad stereotype.

"Charlie, you know I love you despite your craziness, and I would tell you anything, but none of this is mine to tell, and it's all very private." Blaine held the (vain) hope that Charlie would respect that.

"How private can it possibly be? You met him less than two weeks ago!" Charlie emphasized, rolling his eyes. "Anything he's comfortable enough to tell someone who's close to a complete stranger, you should be able to tell me."

"We're not complete strangers, Charlie. We're friends, maybe even best friends. I met him at a very vulnerable time in his life, and he opened up to me, trusting that I wouldn't share with annoyingly prying bastards like you."

"You _so_ love him," Charlie said, and to him, it wasn't even changing the subject. "God, just ask the boy out already and save us all the frustration."

"Kurt has a billion things going on in his life that he needs to deal with before he's in any kind of serious relationship. If our friendship were to become more, it certainly wouldn't happen for a while." Charlie rolled his eyes again.

"This little act of yours isn't going to last for long, Anderson. Something big's gonna happen, and you're going to have to make your choices. I can just feel it." Charlie waved his hands around in a dramatic way as he talked. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a cute boy in my bed."

Charlie walked out without saying anything more, and Blaine sighed once he had left. All the Warblers ever wanted to hear about now was Kurt, and it was getting irritating. Maybe Kurt _had_ entranced him since they met, it didn't matter. Kurt lived in a different world, and had more baggage than Blaine was sure he could handle. So, for now, he would do everything he could to be a _friend_ to the porcelain boy, and nothing more.

* * *

><p><em>(Uh-huh, uh-huh) Yeah, Holly<br>(Uh-huh, uh-huh) Good girl gone bad  
>(Uh-huh, uh-huh) Take three... action!<br>(Uh-huh, uh-huh) Woah!_

_You have my heart  
>And we'll never be worlds apart<br>May be in magazines  
>But you'll still be my star<br>_

_Baby, 'cause in the dark  
>You can't see shiny cars<br>That's when you'll need me there  
>With you I'll always share<br>'Cause I...  
><em>

_I'm singin' in the rain (We'll shine together)  
>Just singin' in the rain (Be here forever)<br>What a glorious feeling (Be a friend)  
>And I'm happy again (Stick it out 'til the end)<br>_

_I'm laughing at clouds (More than ever)  
>So dark, up above (We'll share each other)<br>I'm singin', singin' in the rain (Umbrella)  
>You can stand under my umbrella (Ella, ella, eh, eh, eh)<br>Under my umbrella (Ella, ella, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh)_

_These fancy things  
>Will never come in between<br>You're part of my entity  
>Here for infinity<em>

_When the world has took its part  
>When the world has dealt its cards<br>If the hand is hard  
>Together we'll mend your heart<br>'Cause I..._

_I'm singin' in the rain (We'll shine together)  
>Just singin' in the rain (Be here forever)<br>What a glorious feeling (Be a friend)  
>And I'm happy again (Stick it out 'til the end)<em>

_I'm laughing at clouds (More than ever)  
>So dark, up above (We'll share each other)<br>I'm singin', singin' in the rain (Umbrella)_

_You can stand under my umbrella (Umbrella)  
>Ella, ella, eh, eh, eh (Just singin' in the rain)<br>Under my umbrella (What a glorious feeling)  
>Ella, ella, eh, eh, eh (I'm happy again)<em>

_Under my umbrella (I'm laughing at clouds)  
>Ella, ella, eh, eh, eh (So dark, up above)<br>Under my umbrella (I'm singin')  
>Ella, ella, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh (Singin' in the rain...)<em>

_It's rainin', rainin'  
>Ooh, baby it's rainin', rainin'<br>Baby, come here to me  
>Come here to me<em>

_It's rainin', rainin'  
>Ooh, baby it's rainin', rainin' (More than ever)<br>Baby, come here to me  
>Come here to me<em>

_It's rainin', rainin' (I'm singin' in the rain)  
>Ooh, baby it's rainin', rainin' (Just singin' in the rain)<br>Baby, come here to me (What a glorious feeling)  
>Come here to me (I'm happy again)<em>

_It's rainin', rainin' (I'm laughing at clouds)  
>Ooh, baby it's rainin', rainin' (So dark, up above)<br>Baby, come here to me (The sun's in my heart)  
>And I'm ready for love<em>

_My umbrella, my umbrella  
>My umbrella, my umbrella<em>

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Look who's back! It's me! I could write here a billion reasons why I haven't written anything lately, but I don't want to type them and you don't want to read them. So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you're not too mad at me.**

**Songs used:  
><strong>_'Fall For You'_ by Secondhand Serenade (Blaine's ringtone)  
><em>'Singin' in the RainUmbrella'_ from _Singin' in the Rain_/by Rihanna (performed by Glee Cast)

**Reviews are Love.**


	9. Wedding of the Century

**A/N: Anyone still following this story is amazing, because I would have killed me by now. I completely forgot about this story (it hides in my computer, I swear), and thus, no updates. I'M SORRY! Also, I know very little about weddings, so I'm relying on the Internet. Sorry if I miss something or get anything wrong.**

* * *

><p>Kurt spun out his locker code and opened his locker with a sigh. They were back to rehearsals with Mr. Schue, which were considerably less fun than rehearsals with Miss Holiday. He hadn't talked to Blaine in three days. Mercedes still didn't really like Blaine, and it had gotten worse since she rejected Anthony. The only good thing about life was that Karofsky hadn't bothered him since... well, since the incident he didn't want to think about.<p>

Kurt jumped about a foot and whirled around when someone tapped him on the shoulder. "Dad? What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"Why do you always jump to the negative, kiddo? We just have some news for you and Finn. Where is he?" Kurt wracked his brain. Where would Finn be?

"He's probably by his locker..." Kurt didn't get to finish his thought before Carole grabbed his arm and looped hers through it, pulling his away from his locker. Kurt had just enough time to shut it before his dad did the same thing.

"Take us to him, sweetie, this is really important," Carole said, and Kurt kind of had no choice.

_There is nothing wrong, there is nothing wrong, there is nothing wrong_, Kurt repeated to himself in his head as he walked down the hall. He ignored the odd looks he got from other students at having a parent on both arms. They were improvements over the usual looks he got when he walked down the hall: disgust, loathing, and even fear.

Kurt smiled nervously. "Okay," he murmured under his breath when he spotted Finn. Finn looked surprised when he saw them but Kurt couldn't blame him. He had been fairly surprised too.

"Oh. What's going on? Is this one of those interventions, 'cause..." Finn's face was puzzled, eyebrows pulled together.

"If it is, it's for the both of us," Kurt replied, as Carole shot her son a motherly disbelieving look that said 'oh, honey, are you kidding me?' "They bombarded me and forced me to bring them to you.

His dad and Carole were grinning hugely. "Okay, come on, tell them," Burt said, gesturing to Carole.

"No, no, no, no, you-" Carole argued.

"No, we said in the car-" Burt began.

"Come on, you, you-" Carole said, and Kurt was beginning to think they could go back and forth like this for quite a while. What could they both want to say yet not want to say?

"You tell-"

"You. Please!" Carole said finally, and Burt gave in.

"All right. So you know how I drive Carole to work every Tuesday?" Burt asked, and Finn nodded, still looking confused. Clearly he hadn't figured it out yet. "Well," Burt said, releasing Kurt's arm and walking to stand next to Carole, wrapping an arm around her, "today I drove here and we snuck into that classroom where Kurt introduced us. Very romantic of me, I might add, and I-"

"_He proposed! He proposed!"_ Carole said. Kurt was surprised she didn't explode from the excitement she was exuding.

"Ah. You stole the punch line!" Burt said, but it was clear he wasn't upset.

"_What_?" Kurt mouthed, because _wow_. He never would have guessed that, even though it made sense.

"Wow, this just... happened?" Finn asked as Dad gave Carole a kiss.

"Oh, Dad!" Kurt couldn't help but gush. Honestly, he had thought this was going to happen for a while, but it was still kind of a shock. His dad had found someone that could make him happy, even after what he had gone through with his mom, and that was what Kurt had wanted for him (and, later, himself, but now was not a time to be selfish. And he definitely wasn't thinking about Blaine, who he would be calling _immediately_).

Kurt went right for the ring. It was the logical reaction. It was simple, but beautiful, a medium-sized diamond on a gold bad. "Oh!" Carole exclaimed as he did this. "We wanted the two of you to be the first to know."

"Yeah, after the kids in that homeroom," his dad added, and Kurt would have laughed if he hadn't focused immediately. He got to _plan a wedding_! (With Carole, of course. She _was_ the bride.) "Come on, family hug. Ah!"

Kurt was already half-hugging Carole anyway, and Burt had an arm around her, so all they really had to do was pull Finn in. Kurt was too happy to care if Finn felt uncomfortable hugging him. Sure enough, Finn had complied with his dad's wish and there was a (big and unusually hot) hand against his back). Burt and Carole were laughing, obviously giddy with enthusiasm. Kurt pretended not to notice how Finn warily looked at the jocks passing by.

"I'm so excited and... and nervous," Carole said.

"Oh, don't be, don't be," Kurt said immediately, grabbing his future step-mother's hands.

"Well, no. Okay," Carole said, clearly a little swept away in his enthusiasm.

"Oh my God, this is just what I needed," Kurt said, too happy to avoid using the typical phrase. "I will take care of it from here." Kurt clapped his hands excitedly. "I have a trunk full of wedding magazines hidden under my bed." Kurt directed this towards Finn have to get him in the conversation, and half to solve the fact that Finn had seen it and Kurt was pretty sure he thought it was porn. "I'm thinking of a russet and cognac theme. Those are colors, Finn, fall wedding colors. Autumnal."

"Nothing too extravagant, Kurt," Burt interjected. "We're gonna use whatever savings we have. We are spending it on the honeymoon. That's right. We're going to Waikiki." 'What?' Kurt mouthed again as Carole gasped. This was one part she clearly hadn't heard yet. "We're gonna go to the hotel where they put up the guest stars on _Lost_."

"Finn, you-you haven't said anything," Carole stuttered, looking concerned.

"Uh, I'm... I guess I'm just kind of stunned," Finn admitted.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm already looking for a bigger house. One where everybody's gonna get their own rooms," Burt assured him, patting him on the back.

"Come on, honey. Be happy for me," Carole said, a note of pleading to her voice.

"I am, Mom," Finn said with a smile.

"All right, now listen, Kurt, Mr. Wedding Planner, I want you to take care of one thing. I don't care about the food or the booze at this party, but I want one heck of a band. I've been eating right, I have been exercising, and I want to boogie with Carole at this wedding." Carole laughed, obviously charmed. "And I will boogie."

"All right," Kurt said, clapping again. "It's already taken care of, Dad. I'm going to hire the New Directions as your band. Right? It won't cost you a cent. They're cheap, they're available. Long story short: you're having a Glee wedding!" Burt and Finn both looked excited by that idea.

"You're right, Kurt, that's perfect," Burt agreed, and Carole was smiling too.

"Maybe you boys can sing us something!" Carole said with a smile, and Kurt and Finn exchanged a glance.

"Maybe," Kurt said to appease her. They were there in awkward silence for a few more seconds while Carole waited for a more concrete answer before Kurt said, "Carole, I think we should be getting to class. We've already missed a good five minutes of first period."

Carole and Burt gave Kurt and Finn hugs before they left. Once they were far enough down the hall, Kurt turned to his soon-to-be step-brother, but he wasn't there anymore.

* * *

><p>"Blaine! Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, <em>Blaine<em>!" Kurt's almost-shriek was the first thing Blaine heard after school that day. His friend had left him six missed calls, but no messages and no texts. Whatever it was Kurt wanted to say, he wanted to _say_ it.

"Hello. What's the big-"

"My dad and Carole are getting _married_!" Kurt screeched before Blaine could finish his question, and Kurt sounded so much happier than Blaine had ever heard him that Blaine had to smile.

"That's great, Kurt. I'm guessing you're taking over the planning?" With a love for everything fashion, at the very least Blaine was sure Kurt would be involved with the wedding dress.

"Of course! I'm looking through my wedding magazines right now!" Kurt sounded so excited, it was such a contrast to how Blaine usually heard him.

"You have wedding magazines?" Blaine asked, not as surprised as he felt he should have been.

"Marrying Kurt already?" Charlie asked, flopping on to the extra bed in Blaine's room, not having bothered to knock and wait for permission to enter.

Blaine mouthed "no" as indignantly as he could to Charlie while Kurt answered, "A whole trunk full of them were hidden under my bed. Carole's given me almost complete control, but I have to have her permission before I actually put any ideas into play." Kurt squeaked. "Blaine, this is just what I needed."

"I can tell," Blaine said with a laugh. "I hate to dampen the mood, but has Karof-"

"No," Kurt answered, again before Blaine could complete his question.

"Good. How's Finn about this?" Blaine asked as Charlie stole one of his notebooks from his desk and appeared to begin planning Blaine and Kurt's wedding, if the title at the top surrounded by little hearts was any indication.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked, and Blaine could hear the pages of magazines being flipped across the line.

"Well, I know Carole and Finn aren't living with you anymore, and I was just wondering if Finn had... acclimated to the idea of being your brother. I assure you guys would be living together..." Kurt had gone silent, which was never a good thing.

"Huh," Kurt said. "He didn't really sound very excited, and he said he was stunned. He only looked a little bit happier when Dad said we'd be getting a new house so we wouldn't have to share a room."

"I shouldn't have asked, huh?" Blaine asked as Charlie mouthed 'favorite flowers?' and the tenor ignored him.

"No, it's fine. Finn actually looked really happy when I said the New Directions would be performing-"

"Your Glee club is doing the wedding?" Blaine asked, once again not as surprised as he should have been. "That's pretty cool."

"I know! We're great, we're free, and we actually care about the bride and groom. Everyone in Glee knows that my dad is the best dad on the planet!" Kurt was obviously happy again, not letting Finn's lack of enthusiasm get him down. Blaine swallowed down some jealousy at Kurt's relationship with his father.

"If you're planning and your Glee club is performing, that's going to be one hell of a wedding, Kurt. When is it?" Charlie was now holding up pictures of flowers on his iPhone for Blaine to approve or disapprove. Blaine was nodding and shaking his head in a pattern just to bug him.

"In only two weeks! I have a million things to do, and the Glee club has numbers to choose and plan, and oh gosh..." Kurt's enthusiasm trailed off into stress.

"Isn't the bride supposed to be the nervous one?" Blaine asked, and for some odd reason, that made Kurt laugh.

"I'm doing all this so Carole doesn't have to be nervous," Kurt clarified. "And since I have you on the phone, you would approve of a russet and cognac theme?"

"For a fall wedding, definitely," Blaine said what Kurt wanted to hear, trying to remember exactly what colors those were. He wasn't quite as fashionably-minded as Kurt.

"There's just so much to do!" Kurt exclaimed, and he really did sound like the bride was supposed to. "There's the cake, the gift registry, the flowers, the dresses, the favors, the programs, the venue, the invitations, the vows, the guest list, the priest. The only thing I don't have to do is the music, but I still have to rehearse it. And worse, I'm on a budget and a time limit!"

"Do you have a specific amount and a date?" Blaine asked, and Kurt sighed.

"No to the amount. Yes to the date. Saturday, November 28th. Save the date and add that to the list of things I have to do while you're at it!" Kurt declared dramatically.

"Did you say 'priest'?" Blaine asked. "They're having a religious wedding?"

"The Hudson family, unfortunately, are occasional believers, and Carole insisted that they get married in a Church and have a priest. My dad agreed because he's _so_ wrapped around her finger, and we were _technically_ religious until my mom died." Kurt sounded upset again.

"Sounds like there's a story there," Blaine said, and Kurt sighed.

"Not one I want to tell right now," Kurt replied, and Blaine respected that.

"Well, the easiest thing to do would be to make a few itineraries. Figure out how you want the wedding to go, and figure out when you wanna have things done by. Deadlines actually make some people a lot more productive," Blaine said.

"That's actually a pretty good idea," Kurt mused, but he sounded happy again. "I can get Carole, my dad, and Finn in league with everything I want to do at the wedding and then just weave together the details. Viola! The perfect wedding in a rush."

"I can't believe they're giving you two weeks to plan it," Blaine said. "They might as well elope if they're moving things that fast." Kurt laughed.

"That's what I said to Mercedes once Finn was out of earshot." Kurt got quiet for a second. "Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

"What happens if I mess something up?" Blaine rolled his eyes, both at Kurt on the phone and at Charlie, who was pushing his notebook, now covered in notes for his and Kurt's hypothetical wedding, into Blaine's lap.

"Kurt, no matter how well you plan this wedding, something's going to go differently than you planned, and at the end of the night no one will care. So, breathe, and try _not_ to have a heart attack before you reach seventeen," Blaine teased softly, and he could tell Kurt was smiling when he answered.

"Ha ha," he replied, semi-sarcastically. "Thank you."

"No problem." There were a few moments of silence in which Blaine could hear Kurt pull out another magazine from his box and plop it on his bed. "So, how are you feeling about expanding your family?" There was silence. "Another question I shouldn't have asked?"

"No, it's fine," Kurt replied. "I just hadn't thought about it, honestly. Finn and I have had such a rough relationship since Dad and Carole began their relationship..."

"With a little help," Blaine teased, trying to lighten the mood a little.

"Right." Clearly, he didn't succeed. "I don't think him being my brother is going to make things any easier."

"What about Carole?" Blaine asked.

"What _about_ Carole?" Kurt repeated, indignant. "I love her. She's a wonderful woman and mother. All she needed was a little fashion advice."

"I'm not insulting her, Kurt," Blaine soothed with a roll of his eyes (which was one of the great things about talking to Kurt on the phone. He could roll his eyes all he wanted and not get slapped). Charlie was humming _One Hand, One Heart_, and Blaine resisted the urge to slap _him_. "I was just wondering how you were feeling about her becoming your step-mom."

"Excited," Kurt said, still sounding a little insulted.

"Calm down, Kurt, I was just wondering. Some kids feel like they're betraying their true mom, or that their father is trying to replace their true mom... things like that which aren't true." There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Are you _trying_ to stick there ideas in my head?" Blaine sighed.

"Kurt, none of those things are true. I may not know much about your mom, but I know that she loved you and your dad and would want you to be happy. And if you got any of your personality from her, your mother was a woman that can never be replaced. I just wanted to make sure you're not feeling that way."

"I got _all_ my personality from her," Kurt said with a laugh, "and you're right, of course. I wasn't feeling that way, but I'm sure I won't now."

"Now that I've solved all the problems I created," Blaine said, making Kurt giggle, "I should go before Charlie freaks out because I'm ignoring him. Take care."

"Bye Blaine," Kurt said, hanging up.

"You are the most annoying person on the planet." Blaine turned to Charlie, who was shaking with such hard laughter that he wasn't making a sound.

"It's too funny. He's planning a wedding, and you're so in love with him you want to have a wedding. Do you not see the humor here?" Charlie asked, choking out the words between fits of laughter.

"_I'm not in love with him_!" Blaine exclaimed, then sighing when Charlie laughed even more at the fact he had made Blaine lose his cool. "Did you have a purpose for coming in here?"

"Besides bugging you, no. Wes told me you were on the phone with Kurt, so I had to come and drive you insane. It's the rational thing to do!" Charlie collected his notebook from where Blaine had pushed it on the floor.

"Your version of rational is so beyond..." Blaine sighed. "Charlie, I'm not going to look at your plans for a wedding that will _never happen_."

"Never say 'never'," Charlie replied with a grin, placing the notebook again in Blaine's lap.

"You're out of your..." Blaine trailed off in shock. The color scheme Charlie had picked, along with the flowers, the cake, the invitations, and the gift registry, were actually kind of perfect (ignoring that the date on the invitations was in two days).

"Not so out of my mind now, am I?"

* * *

><p>"Best man?" Kurt asked Carole, holding a notebook in his hand to write down her answers with the title '<strong>Wedding of the Century'<strong> at the top surrounded by little hearts.

"Best _men_," Carole corrected with a smile. "You and Finn of course. We could never pick, nor would we want to." Kurt smiled in response as he wrote that down and mentally re-planned a few things accordingly.

"Maid of honor?" Carole frowned.

"I was hoping I could skip that somehow. Raising a bucket of trouble like Finn, with a side of Noah, I've never had much of a social life, and my job's not exactly the kind you socialize with." Carole spoke of the two boys she had raised with such fondness. Kurt nodded, accepting that, crossing out the line.

"Bridesmaids?"

"Your Glee girls, of course."

"Bridesmaids' dresses?" Kurt asked, and he knew Carole could tell by his tone he cared more about this question than any of the previous ones.

"What were you thinking?" Kurt grinned. Just the answer he had been looking for.

"To minimize on time necessities, I was thinking all the girls could wear the same color, but not the same cut. It would add a little bit of flair, and let them have some say in their dress."

"Did you have a color in mind?"

"Of course! It's hard to describe, but I have a swatch of it up in my room if you would like to see..." Kurt was up and halfway to the stairs when Carole called him back.

"Sweetie, I can look later." Kurt nodded.

"What were you thinking for your dress?" Kurt asked. "Wedding dresses often don't come directly off the rack, so if you still need to look for one-"

"I was thinking," Carole cut in before Kurt could go on a spiel, "of wearing the dress I bought for the formal marriage Christopher and I never had."

Kurt paused before asking, "You and Finn's dad never had a formal marriage?" Carole shook her head.

"He was going to be leaving so soon that we thought we didn't really have time for one. We didn't have an expert wedding planner like you," Carole said with a smile, and Kurt graciously accepted the (very true) compliment. "So Christopher went overseas, and I planned a wedding for when he got home, but..." Carole paused for a moment, as if she was lying, "he never got home."

"I'm sorry," Kurt said, and Carole smiled tightly.

"Nothing to be sorry for, sweetie. It was a long time ago."

"You wearing that dress sounds perfect," Kurt said with a smile, and he really meant it. There were a few moments of not-entirely-comfortable silence before Kurt continued. "So, flowers. I was thinking-"

"Sweetie?" Carole asked before Kurt could get back into his questions. "How are you feeling about this wedding?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Kurt mumbled before he answered. Of course, being a mother with hawk-like hearing for mischief, Carole heard and raised an eyebrow.

"Has your father talked to you about this?" she asked, but she sounded like she was playing a mind game. Mothers did that to get true answers out of their children.

"No, my friend Blaine-"

"Friend?" Carole asked, raising both her eyebrows, and Kurt knew he was blushing.

"Yes, friend," Kurt said firmly. He asked me the same question."

"That I believe, but I don't blush like that for my friends," Carole said with a sneaky smile.

"It's complicated, Carole." Kurt tried to wave away the issue.

"Everything is," Carole said sympathetically. "Well, if you ever need to talk about this 'friend' of yours, I'm always here." Carole rested a hand on Kurt's shoulder for a moment.

"Thank you, Carole." Kurt smiled, and Carole took her hand off his shoulder. "To answer your question, I hadn't even thought about it before Blaine asked me, and he kind of assuaged any fears I might have had."

"Good. I figured I should have this conversation with you because I asked Burt to do the same with Finn. I think he's nervous about being your brother." Carole gave Kurt a look.

"He's not the only one," Kurt admitted, "but I'm handling it. Really," he insisted when Carole gave him a more disbelieving look. "It's not going to be that much different than now, except we'll see each other more."

"If you really think that," Carole said with a smile, but she let it go. "So, flowers?"

"Well we have several different options-" Just as Kurt was about to get going, the front door opened with a slam, and he never managed to get anything done when his dad was home. "Great."

"We'll talk more later, sweetie," Carole said, clearly thinking along the same lines. "Oh, and if you want to invite this 'friend' of yours to the wedding, you're more than welcome to."

"I don't think Dad would approve," Kurt said as Carole stood up.

"Maybe not, but who's planning the wedding?" Carole asked with a raised eyebrow and Kurt smiled.

"I'm not sure it would be appropriate," Kurt said, but he knew his face was burning as he tried to lie. Heck, he had practically already invited Blaine.

"Well, if you really feel that way, just invite him to the reception," Carole said as she headed for the kitchen to start dinner.

"Carole?"

"Yes?" she asked from the kitchen.

"How do you feel about doves?"

"I love them," she replied.

"Perfect."

* * *

><p>Kurt smiled fondly at the wedding topper in his locker. Some people might call it a little extreme to have designed his locker to fit the wedding, but anything that kept the wedding at the front of his mind (and not something else like Blaine, school, Blaine, homework, Blaine, bullies, or... well, there was always Blaine) was a good thing. Kurt enjoyed the breaks between classes. The jocks were busy getting reprimanded for whatever it was they had done in class that day and didn't have time to harass him.<p>

"Hey," Finn said, and Kurt turned, trying not to look surprised. Finn rarely ever approached him at school, especially not holding on of his (Blaine-suggested) itineraries. "Uh, so, I've been reviewing this itinerary, and I don't really get it. Are you sure we should release three hundred live doves indoors? Won't that get kind of messy?

Oh, Finn. He was so uncreative. Unlike Blaine, whom he was meeting for coffee later to talk about (what else but) the wedding. Blaine would have good ideas. "That's why we feed them glitter, Finn," Kurt replied, trying not to snap at his soon-to-be step-brother."

"Oh. Well, look. I've been thinking about it. I-I really want to do something special for the wedding, and I want to take this opportunity to sort of... remind everyone that I'm, you know... a leader." Kurt grinned. This could be the perfect way to convince Finn to do what he had secretly been planning all along. The itinerary was to help out, but no one could really know all that was in his wedding binder but him.

"I have the perfect idea. After you walk your mom down the aisle and give her away to me dad-"

"Incredibly creepy," Finn murmured, and Kurt stored that away for later.

"-and give your speech to the newlyweds, which I will write, although you are free to suggest overall themes, you and Carole will have a lovely mother-and-son dance in front of everyone."

"Uh, that's a terrible idea," Finn said. "Everybody knows I'm the worst dancer." Possibly on the face of the earth, but he could change that in ten minutes, unlike Miss Rachel Berry.

"Finn, trust me on this. I have been planning weddings since I was two. My Power Rangers got married and divorced in so many combinations they were like Fleetwood Mac." Including the singing.

"I guess if I could pull it off... it would make me seem like a cool stud." Kurt wasn't sure exactly how dancing with one's mother made one a cool stud, but he could probably get Finn to agree to anything this way.

"Totally," Kurt said.

"Thanks. It's a plan." Finn clapped Kurt on the shoulder (the only type of touching he allowed between the two), and left. Kurt mentally thanked whatever-was-up-there that he didn't think that last comment was a come-on.

Kurt pulled the wedding topper out of his locker closed it, mentally reminding himself to give it to Carole later, and found himself face-to-face with Karofsky. Kurt tried not to flinch. Despite what he had told Blaine, Karofsky had been bothering him more and more these days, and he wasn't sure what to do about it.

Karofsky didn't say anything as he advanced on Kurt, and Kurt automatically edged back. The look in Karofsky's eyes was intense, dark, and almost... wanting, which was scarier than anything he could think of. Even anger would be better. "I don't want you near me," he said firmly, trying to pretend like he wasn't shaking slightly.

As if to directly disobey Kurt's order, Karofsky placed a finger on Kurt's chest, right near his heart. He slid it down with a smirk, just enough to make Kurt edge back more and end up pressed against the lockers behind him. Karofsky grabbed the wedding topper out of his hand.

"Can I have this?" he asked, and Kurt was too terrified by the look in his eyes to answer. "Thanks," he said, walking away and placing it in the pocket of his letterman jacket. Kurt remained pressed against his locker, trying to remember how to breathe properly.

"Are you okay?" Mr. Schue asked, coming up and almost touching Kurt on the shoulder before Kurt shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to be touched. "No, no," he croaked out.

"Let's go to the principal. Come on." Mr. Schue placed a hand on his shoulder to guide him, and Kurt tried not to shrink away. He realized dimly that his eyes were watering and a tear was escaping down his cheek.

* * *

><p>Hearing 'let's go to the principal' was a much more encouraging idea when it was Coach Sylvester than when it was Principal Figgins (who was an unhelpful and worthless little man). Kurt knew she couldn't do anything, but she at least cared.<p>

"Did he physically hurt you?" she asked after Mr. Schue had recounted what had happened in the hall to the best of his ability.

"No," Kurt replied, kind of annoyed it wasn't true. Kurt had much preferred coming home with bruises than coming home with the sick dread in his stomach seeing Karofsky always caused.

"You said he shoved you into the lockers before," Mr. Schue added. It wasn't particularly _helpful_, but at least he was trying in a way he hadn't been two weeks ago. Maybe now he realized there was actually a chance that they might get help.

"Oh, I can't expel a kid for shoving. He'll just say 'I didn't mean to shove that kid. I tripped'. Excuse works like a charm. I use it all the time." The comment didn't even phase Kurt. He had been a Cheerio. He knew how Coach Sylvester worked.

"He didn't _shove _me this time," Kurt insisted. "He just... terrified me."

"Lady," From Coach Sylvester, that was an endearment. She had much worse nicknames for other people, but it still hurt. "I can't suspend a student because he scares you. High school is a dry run for the rest of your life. It's rough. People can be mean." Kurt and Mr. Schue were looking at each other throughout Coach Sylvester's explanation, but never quite caught each others' eyes.

"That's your advice?" Mr. Schue asked like he didn't believe it. Kurt believed it. "That's all you have to say?"

"William, I was bullied my entire life." Coach Sylvester started on one of her stories that may or may not be true, but were nevertheless still interesting. "I grew up with a handicapable sister. I know very well how cruel people can be." This one sounded true. "Was it difficult? Yes. Did it make me stronger? You bet it did." Kurt was trying to decide how to articulate the type of bullying Karofsky was doing without revealing too much. Yes, Karofsky was acting inexcusably, but that didn't give Kurt an excuse to do the same. Besides, telling wouldn't help anyone, especially not Kurt. For all he knew, Karofsky could act on his threat.

"It's the fear that's the worst," Kurt started, barely listening to Coach Sylvester anymore. "I never know when it's coming. I can't concentrate. I don't feel like I'm part of the school at all. I feel like I'm in a horror movie where this creature follows me around terrifying me, and there's nothing I can do about it? I mean, you-you don't know what's going on in this kid's head. You don't know what he's capable of." Crap. He hadn't meant to share that much. Why did he let himself start talking?

Mr. Schue stood up to lean on Coach Sylvester's desk, facing him (and she didn't complain. Even she realized how serious this conversation was). It was starting to feel like a bizarre version of the Spanish Inquisition in there (thought Kurt doubted the Spanish Inquisition had anyone as terrifying as Coach Sylvester).

"What does that mean?" he asked softly.

"Nothing," Kurt said, seeing an easy out. "Maybe I'm overreacting."

"Lady," Coach Sylvester began firmly, "this kid lays a finger on you," Kurt mentally chuckled at the fact Coach Sylvester didn't mean what had happened just a few minutes ago, but it felt like she could have, "you come straight to me, and I will expel him faster than a Thai takeout place can read back your delivery order." And with Coach Sylvester, there always had to be a little bit of racism in every conversation. "Okay? But until that happens, and I'm _genuinely _sorry to say this, there's nothing legally I or the school board can do." Coach Sylvester sounded frustrated, and Kurt wondered what illegal ways she could think of to solve the problem. Probably better ones than he could.

Mr. Schue sighed. "Come on, Kurt. We're going to be late for rehearsal." Was last period over already? With a sigh of his own, Kurt picked up his messenger bag and wedding binder.

He couldn't resist one last comment to Miss Sylvester before he pushed open the door. "You know, when you call me 'lady,' that's bullying, and it's really hurtful."

"I'm sorry. I thought that was your name." Kurt knew that was a lie. Coach Sylvester had called him by his name exactly once, right after Nationals last year, but she knew it. "As an apology, I'll allow you to choose from the following nicknames: Gelfling, Porcelain, and Tickle-Me-Doughface." The look of Mr. Schuester's face must have been hilarious, but Kurt was used to it.

"I guess I'll go with Porcelain." Once again: it was a lot better than some of the nicknames Coach Sylvester had for other people (she had a variety of highly offensive ones for Rachel, which he approved of, and Mr. Schue, only some of which he approved of).

"Damn. Totally wanted Tickle-Me-Doughface."

Kurt and Mr. Schue left without another word.

* * *

><p>As they walked into rehearsal, Mr. Schue placed his hand on Kurt's shoulder. Whether it was for support, to stop him from sitting down, or because he had a fetish for shoulders, Kurt didn't know, but he stayed put at the front of the room anyway.<p>

"Today, we'll start planning numbers for the wedding. Tell us what you were thinking, Kurt." Mr. Schue didn't get out of Kurt's personal space as he opened his binder to the appropriate page.

"I was thinking one as the couples' first dance, and one later during the reception. There's no need to incorporate any number into the actual ceremony." Mr. Schue nodded.

"Does anyone have any ideas?"

"Well, I was thinking-" Rachel started immediately, but as the person at the front of the room, Kurt stopped her.

"_I_ was thinking," Kurt said just to get under Rachel's skin," that it would be easiest if you, Mr. Schuester, were to perform the number. My dad has insisted on picking the song, which he has not yet done, but if it were heavily choreographed, it would take away from Dad and Carole being the central focus, so, as long as you know the song, it shouldn't be any trouble to decide on later." Kurt tried not to heave a sigh as he sat down on a stool at the front of the room. It had been a long day, especially the last part of it, and all he wanted to do was go out for coffee with Blaine. He had no energy for this. "Does anyone have any ideas for the second number.

Rachel began to talk eagerly, but Kurt tuned her out. He really needed some coffee, and possibly a scone, which his stomach confirmed by grumbling at him. He hadn't eaten at lunch because he was feeling nauseous with the weight of Karofsky's stare, and he had skipped breakfast to print out the itineraries and then get to school early to distribute them. He had talked through dinner last night with Carole about the wedding and possibly eaten two bites. Lunch yesterday... when was the last time he had eaten?

"Kurt? Kurt?" Rachel was asking, and Kurt snapped his attention back to her. Apparently, he had forgotten to listen to the end of her speech and nod along even though he planned to use exactly zero of her ideas, and he was about to get bitched out. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, fine. Thank you for your contributions, Rachel. Now, I was thinking _Everything_ by Michael Bublé, it would be a great-"

"I said that one," Rachel said, but she didn't sound annoyed. She sounded concerned.

"I'm sorry, I must have missed that," Kurt said. "As I was saying, it would be a great group-"

"I discussed it at length," Rachel said, still sounding concerned. "Are you sure you're all right, Kurt?"

"I would be much better if you would stop interrupting me," Kurt said to shut her up. "It would be a great group number, it's romantic, but not too slow to be performed by multiple people, and it's the perfect tone for a wedding. Any other suggestions, besides from Rachel?" Kurt tried to ignore how much he was acting like Mr. Schue. Maybe it came with being at the front of the room.

"We could always steal songs from the Wedding Singer," Mercedes said, trying to make Kurt laugh. Kurt just sighed and resisted the urge to scrub at his eyes with the back of his hand. He had enough acne as it was, he didn't need to be constantly touching his face. "Bo, I was kidding."

"I know," Kurt said, attempting a smile.

"Maybe we should just meet up tomorrow with some ideas for a few minutes," Mr. Schue suggested, putting his hand on Kurt's shoulder again. "There's really nothing we can do today, and it's been a long day." Kurt closed his yes as Mr. Schue talked, feeling ready to fall off the stool.

"Bo, are you okay?" Mercedes asked once Mr. Schue had dismissed them and they were walking towards the parking lot together.

"I'm fine, Merce. I would tell you if I wasn't," he said at her disbelieving look.

"Come over to my place, we can watch some movies and talk about whatever's bothering you, white boy, 'cause I don't believe you for a minute." Kurt smiled wanly at the fact Mercedes knew him so well.

"I can't, I'm meeting Blaine for coffee." Mercedes huffed.

"Of course you are." Kurt was about to protest, but Mercedes waved a hand. "Nah, it's fine. Go see your boy, and promise me that you'll talk to him about your problems." Kurt smiled a little more believably that time (he hoped). "And eat something while you're there, you're too skinny already," Mercedes said with a roll of her eyes.

"Yes, Mother," Kurt said, but kissed Mercedes on the cheek as he headed for his car. Ever since the business with her substituting him for a boyfriend, he had gotten out of the habit of walking her _to_ her car.

Kurt got in his car with a sigh, arching to stretch out his back. Despite the fact that his day (especially the end of it) had been lousy, he already felt better knowing he would be with Blaine soon and fess up to not being entirely truthful about Karofsky because he was so excited about the wedding and didn't want to kill his own buzz.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Coffee scene next chapter. Klaine + Charlie + Canon + Carole = awesome chapter? I think so. Thank you to anyone who is still reading this and again, I'm sorry! You guys rock!**

**And since I used canon, I will remember to add: I own lots of Glee merch, but not the actual show. Bummer.**

**Also, my Internet stinks right now, so any wonky spacing or editing, I apologize on Time Warner Cable's behalf.**

**Songs mentioned:  
><strong>_'One Hand, One Heart'_ from _West Side Story  
>'Everything'<em> by Michael Bublé

**Reviews are Love. And Wonderful. And Help Me Remember This Story's Existence.**


	10. Sam to the Rescue

**A/N: Really, there's just no excuse for this lateness. I'm not even going to try. This is a little bit dramatic, but bear with me. It's been a long day.**

**Warning: sexual harassment, violence, non-canon**

* * *

><p>The drive to the Lima Bean was filled with Mariah and Whitney, and Kurt wasn't at all surprised to see Blaine's car already in the parking lot when he arrived. Punctuality was apparently big at Dalton.<p>

Kurt swung open one of the wooden doors and allowed himself a momentarily dream smile towards Blaine, who was sitting at a table pushed up against the windows that lined the front of the store and staring dreamily out of it. Two coffees and two vanilla bean scones sat on the table in front of him.

"Earth to Mr. Warbler, come in Mr. Warbler," Kurt said teasingly as he approached the table, trying to change his smile from slightly-head-over-heels to friendly.

"Hey!" Blaine said brightly as his eyes snapped out of his own little world and towards Kurt. "Sorry, I was daydreaming," he apologized as he stood up to give Kurt a hug.

He had been here for less than two minutes and Blaine had already made him feel better, and the hug could only help. Kurt relished the few seconds Blaine held him before releasing him and sitting back down.

"Grande mocha okay?" Blaine asked with a smile. Kurt would just have to deal with the extra fat and calories.

"Good enough," Kurt said with a smile, sitting down opposite Blaine. They had never been same-side-of-the-booth (or table) friends.

"How's wedding planning going?" Blaine asked. Kurt raised an eyebrow at the lack of small talk and Blaine grinned. "I figured this is going to be our topic of conversation anyway, might as well get right to it," he teased.

"Wonderfully, of course," Kurt ignored his teasing. "I have to thank you for the itinerary idea. Not only did it help me to organize, it made Finn approach me at school for what might have been the first time ever." Blaine raised an eyebrow at that.

"I'm glad it helped. What did Finn want to talk to you about?" he asked hesitantly.

"Finn's not a touchy subject, Blaine," Kurt said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "He's going to be my step-brother in 13 short days, and that's it."

"Right," was all Blaine said, tone carefully neutral.

"He wanted to do something special for the wedding to show that he's a leader. I have no idea why. People flock to Finn like he's the Pied Piper, shows of force are unnecessary." Blaine shrugged. Kurt mentally wondered when he had gotten so impassive.

"What did you tell him?"

"I manipulated him into agreeing to the mother-son dance I had been planning. We're trying to split up best man duties, and as much as I love Carole I didn't want to get stuck with that one." Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Why did Finn not want to?" he asked and Kurt's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets.

"Are you crazy?" he demanded. "Finn _never_ dances in front of people unless he absolutely _has _to."

"Why not?" Blaine asked, looking taken aback and confused at Kurt's dramatic outburst.

Kurt sighed dramatically. "I forget you haven't been around forever sometimes," he admitted. "Finn is the worst dancer I know, and possibly the worst dancer on the face of the earth. I'm afraid a _waltz_ might be too complicated for him."

"So why don't you dance with Carole?" Kurt bit his lip at Blaine's question.

"I'm afraid Finn might be jealous if I dance with his mother," Kurt answered honestly. "He's always very protective of her, and somewhat territorial, though that may be a little hypocritical of me."

"You could try asking him," Blaine offered, taking a sip of his coffee. Kurt looked down at his own untouched coffee as he answered.

"Finn and I don't talk about that kind of stuff. Not since..." Kurt looked up at Blaine for understanding.

"Homosexual Armageddon?" Blaine offered, and Kurt glared at him.

"Doesn't matter. He agreed to do the dance, and I will make him waltz until he masters it, I don't care how tired he is or how badly his feet are bleeding."

"You would make a great slave driver," Blaine commented, taking a sip that sounded more like a slurp. "Aw. I'm coffee-less."

"How long were you waiting for me?" Kurt asked. The New Directions' practice had been cut short. He should have beaten Blaine by an hour at least. How had this not occurred to him when he walked in?

"Warblers' practice got cut short because a few people, one of which might have been me, were being rowdy at the beginning and Wes broke his gavel trying shut them up." Blaine grinned. "David had to take him gavel-shopping."

"Where exactly do you go to buy a gavel?" Blaine shrugged in reply to Kurt's query. "So anyway, the Glee club are trying to plan numbers with minimal success. We haven't even decided what songs we're using, and we have to have them ready in 13 days."

"What songs are you deciding between?"

Kurt pursed his lips before replying. "One number depends on my father. Mr. Schuester is singing for their first dance so Finn will be in position at the family table to give his toast and I can give mine. Dad obviously has to decide on the song. My speech is written, and Finn had offered me no general themes for his, so I'll try to write it blind. The other-"

"Why are you writing Finn's speech?" Blaine asked, taking a bite of one of the scones that Kurt had completely forgotten about.

"Finn's not exactly articulate at the best of times, after all, his favorite adjectives are cool and awesome, and his favorite noun is _dude_." Blaine snorted at that. "He memorizes well, though, and I think he'll tell me if he doesn't like what I write for him. He seems to be all about complicating things." Kurt tried to sound like he wasn't a little annoyed with Finn's reluctance. Judging by Blaine's raised eyebrow, it hadn't worked.

"What do you mean by that?" Blaine asked, licking off his fingers as he finished his scone. Kurt tried (unsuccessfully) not to blush, and looked down at his coffee as he answered.

"How do I avoid having someone give someone away to someone else?"

Blaine's response was exactly what he expected. "Excuse me?"

"It's traditional in a wedding for someone, usually the bride, to be walked down the aisle by someone else, usually the bride's father, to be given to a third someone, usually the groom. Carole's father is unfortunately deceased, so I decided Finn should have the honor of walking her down the aisle and giving her away to my father, but he thinks it's... what were his exact words... 'incredibly creepy'." Blaine died laughing. "What's so funny about that?"

"Kurt that's _super_ creepy. Think about it from his perspective. He's _giving away his mom_!" Blaine stopped laughing at Kurt's glare.

"Well, what am I supposed to do about it?" Kurt asked, pulling his wedding binder from his messenger bag where it was resting on the floor beside him.

"Wow, that's a monstrosity. Is that a three-inch binder?" Blaine asked, and Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Focus. I have thirteen days to plan a wedding and my soon-to-be step-brother is being a veritable pain in the ass about tradition!" Kurt snapped, to no reaction from Blaine.

"I interrupted you somewhere, and now I've forgotten what we were talking about. Songs, I think." Blaine pursed his lips in thought. "Oh, right. What are you doing for the second song?"

"I was thinking, and shockingly Rachel agrees, that we should perform _Everything_ by Michael Bublé for the second number..." Kurt trailed off because Blaine was frowning slightly even before he finished his sentence. "What?"

"I feel like that's the obvious choice. It's a song a lot of people know, and it's romantic, but it's not perfect for this situation." Blaine took a long look at Kurt's coffee.

"Well, what would you suggest, Mr. Genius?" Kurt asked, slightly stung that his ideas were being turned down.

"Kill two birds with one stone," Blaine answered, looking back at Kurt.

"Excuse me?"

"Instead of having people walk down the aisle, have them dance. Do something completely creative, like all those wedding videos on YouTube." Kurt smiled, thinking of the _Forever_ video that was so famous. "Have the Glee club start it, and wind it down with Burt, then Carole. Have everyone dance where they need to go."

"Why are you so smart?" Kurt asked with a groan, placing his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. Blaine laughed.

"Blame private schooling." Blaine was quiet for a second. Kurt looked up from his hands and frowned when he saw Blaine's nervous expression.

"What?"

"How are things at school?" Blaine asked carefully.

"I already told you everything's fine." Kurt said smoothly.

"I don't believe you," Blaine said firmly. Kurt raised an eyebrow. "A text message I got from a... reliable source may have suggested that you're trying to hide what's happening from the general populace-"

"Mercedes ratted on me, didn't she?" Kurt asked, and Blaine blushed. Kurt almost groaned at how cute that was.

"She said that you were in the principal's office today, and that you were stark pale, more so than usual, in Glee club, and your director dismissed the club early because of something that happened?" It was more of a question than a statement.

"He hasn't been bullying me, and he hasn't..." Kurt gulped.

"Sexually assaulted you again?" Blaine asked, his own personal way of saying 'kissed you again.'

"Right. It's just..." Kurt looked down at the table. "He stares at me, and winks, and he stole a wedding topper from me today, and it's almost like he's... _flirting _with me, but it's twisted and wrong and makes me feel _nauseous_," he admitted in a rush, staring at the table the whole time, knowing Blaine was looking at him.

"Kurt, look at me?" Blaine asked hesitantly. When Kurt didn't, Blaine repeated his name more firmly and Kurt met his honey-colored eyes. "It's okay to be scared. Anyone would be. And I wish I could be there for you, but you know I can't. Don't push people away though. The best thing to do is ask for help, even if it's not very... prideful. I'm sure your friend want to help, I _know_ Mercedes does. You just need to let them."

"I don't want any of them to get hurt," he admitted, looking back his stacked hands on the table, and this time Blaine let him get away with it.

"They're almost adults, Kurt, just like you are. They can handle themselves. And if things _do_ get physical, that's where the principal and the school board can intervene, even if they seem wildly unhelpful at the moment." Blaine sighed. "Just... don't try to go at this one alone, okay?" Blaine carefully placed a hand on top of Kurt's, making him sigh but smile.

"Thank you, Blaine." Kurt looked up at him, noting the support and caring in his eyes, but not missing the slight haunted look to his face.

"Drink your coffee," Blaine said, mock-firmly, and Kurt looked back down at his untouched cup. His stomach rolled.

"No thanks. I had a big lunch," Kurt lied, and if Blaine could tell he didn't say anything.

"At least try the scone," Blaine said, pushing the plate over to Kurt's side of the table. "They're delicious." Kurt obligingly took a bite. Yes, the scone was phenomenal, but his stomach protested, and he almost gagged as he tried to take a second bite.

"Yeah, I'm really not hungry though." Kurt placed the mostly uneaten scone back on The plate.

"You sure?" Blaine asked, and something in his completely smooth tone suggested he knew Kurt was lying, but wasn't going to push.

"I'm sure," Kurt said firmly. Noticing Blaine staring in a rather wanting way at the scone (and ignoring the way his stomach flipped at the momentary idea someday Blaine might look at _him_ like that), he added, "You can have it, if you want."

"Thanks," Blaine said cheerily, popping the rest of it into his mouth in one go.

"Pig."

* * *

><p><em>It's a beautiful night<br>__We're looking for something dumb to do  
><em>_Hey, baby  
><em>_I think I wanna marry you_

Blaine really was a genius. He couldn't have picked a better song, with a better rhythm, and more perfect words for a wedding. Maybe Kurt was a little bit biased... but still, the song would work perfectly, and would make the wedding less 'incredibly creepy' for Finn.

"Hey, bo," Mercedes said cheerfully, sitting next to him at their usual lunch table. She unceremoniously stole a headphone out of one of his ears and placed it in hers. "I like. Bruno Mars?" Kurt hummed an affirmative as he closed his wedding binder, hiding his first attempt at choreography for _Marry You_ from Mercedes. "How was your date yesterday?"

"It was not a date," Kurt said firmly, not the first time he'd had to say that to Mercedes. "Blaine and I are just friends."

"_Right_," she said disbelievingly. "Did you invite him to the wedding?"

"It's not really appropriate," Kurt replied quickly. "He doesn't even know my dad."

"That's not a yes or no, bo."

"Not explicitly," Kurt admitted with a sigh. "Carole told me I can, but my dad wouldn't approve, and..." Kurt's words died in his throat as he saw Karofsky approaching, the same intensity in his eyes as there had been in the hallway the day before. Kurt's skin crawled.

"Move it, the Incredible Bulk, I don't have time for this," Santana announced loudly, pushing Karofsky out of the path to Kurt and Mercedes' table and following it to sit there herself. "What up, Porcelain?" she said loudly, and Kurt wasn't sure how that was discouraging, but it was.

"Porcelain?" Mercedes asked, probably not even having noticed Karofsky.

"Coach Sylvester's new nickname for Kurt," Brittany said brightly as she sat next to her... friend, lover, fellow Cheerio, whatever, Santana.

"Better than Lady," Mercedes said with a shrug.

"Anything's better than Lady," Kurt muttered under his breath.

"I, for one, am appalled by Miss Sylvester's nicknames for students, as well as her attitude towards them. Just because I happen to have a larger nose that gives me excellent breath control and thus an edge for any singing competition, doesn't mean my dads lost a bet with God-" Kurt was sure Rachel continued her rant as she got closer and sat down, but the laughter from Santana and Mercedes drowned it out. For once, he didn't find a joke about Rachel's nose funny. He could feel Karofsky watching him from the jock table, too scared of Santana to dare approach him.

"Rachel, just because Miss Sylvester recognizes the monstrosity on your face whenever she addresses you, doesn't mean she doesn't like you," Mercedes said with a smile, but Rachel didn't look very comfortable.

"Are you okay, dolphin?" Brittany asked, suddenly very much in Kurt's face.

"Yes, of course, Britt."

"You're not eating, Kurt?" Santana asked pointedly.

"I have to advise that skipping a meal is a very bad idea in terms of having a balanced diet-"

"I'm not hungry," he said firmly, cutting off what would have undoubtedly become another one of Rachel's famous diatribes.

"How's the wedding planning going?" Mercedes asked to fill the awkward silence.

"Wonderfully. It occurred to me yesterday that a song that hasn't been used as much may be a good idea. I thought of _Marry You_ by Bruno Mars off his debut album _Doo-Wops & Hooligans._ I also thought it might be a good idea to perform a song in the beginning of the ceremony to avoid Finn walking his mother up the aisle and giving her away to my father. He seemed extremely uncomfortable with the idea."

"Like _A House Is Not A Home_ uncomfortable?" Santana asked with a smirk. Kurt ignored her.

"That's a brilliant idea, Kurt! I think Finn and I would make wonderful leads." She gave Kurt her signature million-watt smile.

"Carole wanted Finn and I to sing her something," Kurt saw Rachel draw in a breath to argue and then realized disagreeing with the diva wasn't worth the effort, so he quickly amended, "but I think Finn and you have better chemistry anyway." Kurt ignored the way both Santana and Mercedes' jaws dropped, and Brittany quickly tried to push Santana's back up, whispering something about her face being 'stuck that way'.

"Oh," Rachel said, clearly a little taken aback. "Of course, you made the right choice, Kurt. Finn and I won't fail you!" She hesitated for a moment, obviously unsure what to do with the lack of argument. "Maybe Quinn and Sam would like a verse. It may heal their very tense relationship."

"If you think its a good idea," Kurt said with no enthusiasm. All he wanted right then was to go home and take a nap while the wedding planned itself, but he knew that wouldn't happen, so he sucked it up and tried to ignore the eyes boring into the side of his head. "Maybe we could have all the couples sing. Artie and Brittany. Tina and Mike."

"Sure. Sounds _great_," Santana said bitterly, but Rachel nodded in encouragement.

"I'll get to choreographing immediately!" Rachel declared. Kurt didn't even have the energy to tell her that was his job. Let her have some of the burden.

"Why is the Incredible Bulk staring at you?" Santana demanded, looking at Karofsky looking at Kurt. Karofsky was apparently so focused he didn't even notice, because the eyes on Kurt didn't cease for a moment. A chill ran down Kurt's spine and he shivered.

"Probably planning something horrible for later," Kurt answered automatically, then his eyes widened as he realized what he'd said. Thankfully, no one would get the true connotations but him.

"Well, he needs to stop, because it's sincerely creepy," Tina announced as she arrived at their table. "I'm super tempted to go all vampire on his sorry ass."

"Don't bite Karofsky," Kurt replied dully. "I have no doubt poison runs through his veins." It was meant to be a joke, but no one thought it was funny. Not even him.

"Kurt, is everything okay?" Rachel asked cautiously. Kurt looked up simply because it was one of the few times during which he had known Rachel that her sentence didn't start with a reference to herself. "As okay as it can be, I mean."

Kurt swallowed down Blaine's warning about letting people help and answered, "I'm fine, Rachel." Letting the guys get involved was one thing. Letting the girls get involved was _completely different_. Yes, Santana and Mercedes could cause some damage if they were angry. What about tiny Rachel? Brains but not muscles Quinn? Tina the pacifist? Ditzy little Brittany? He couldn't let them get hurt for him.

* * *

><p>"Your Glee girls don't make very good bodyguards." A shiver ran down Kurt's spine. How was Karofsky out of class at the exact same time he was? Karofsky wasn't even in his algebra class. Then a thought struck him: the hallway was empty except for them.<p>

"Stay away from me," Kurt said firmly, not daring to turn around. A hand clamped on Kurt's shoulder, large, heavy, sweaty. _Gross_ would be his first thought if he didn't know who it belonged to. He shuddered.

"Shaking with want already?" Karofsky whispered. It bounced around the empty hall.

"Don't t-touch me," Kurt said, jerking out of Karofsky's grasp. Karofsky pushed at his shoulders and he had to grab onto his locker to prevent from being slammed into his own books.

"I wouldn't be able to do that if you turned around, _Porcelain_." The almost friendly nickname sounded vile on Karofsky's tongue.

"I guarantee I won't like what I see," Kurt said, glad his voice didn't shake this time. Hopefully Karofsky wouldn't notice it was about an octave higher than normal.

"Suit yourself," Karofsky whispered with a chuckle. "This your boyfriend again?" he asked, reaching for the picture of Blaine on his locker door.

"Don't touch that." Kurt surprised them both by spinning around and slapping at Karofsky's hand. Karofsky grinned after a moment's shock.

"Sorry, Porcelain, but he didn't look like much protection for you. What was his name again? _Blaine_?" Blaine's name sounded worse than 'Porcelain', more of a drawl that acted like a dagger to his stomach. Then it occurred to him. Blaine had never introduced himself.

"H-How did you know that?"

"I hear things. Goes to a nice little private school. Rich as all hell. Live in Westerville, doesn't he? It'd sure be a shame if something happened to him."

"Don't touch him!" Kurt demanded, surprised again by his own bravery, taking a step forward and making Karofsky back up automatically.

"Don't worry," Karofsky said, shutting the locker behind Kurt easily now that Kurt had stepped from the door's path and pushing Kurt against it. "I'll touch you instead."

The hand that wasn't by his head from where Karofsky had closed the locker landed on his hip, Karofsky's big hands making him dangerously close to...

The bell rang and Karofsky stepped away instantly as the hallway flooded with students. "Not a word to anyone, get it, homo?!" Kurt closed his eyes, and when he opened them a few seconds later, Karofsky was invisible in the crowd of students, probably having turned a corner. Kurt's stomach churned, and he raced to the nearest bathroom.

Not even caring about his D&G pants anymore, Kurt kneeled before the toilet just in time to vomit up... nothing. His body heaved, but there was nothing in his stomach.

"Kurt?" Kurt's head snapped up automatically in fear before he recognized that it was a friendly voice. Sam's. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Sam." Kurt flushed the toilet... for no good reason, really, but what would Sam have thought if he hadn't?

"Were you just vomiting?" Sam asked, and Kurt found it sweet how concerned he was. A month and a half ago, he would have found it charming, but his crush on Blaine eclipsed anything but brotherly affection.

"I said I'm fine, Sam." Kurt said firmly. He felt like he should brush his teeth, but he hadn't _really_ vomited, and a toothbrush wasn't part of the Glee club's bathroom supply kit for slushies, so he decided to let it go.

"I swear to God, if Karofsky's bothering you-"

"Leave it alone, Sam!" Kurt snapped at him without even feeling guilty, strutting out of the bathroom without ever looking at Sam.

* * *

><p>"Kurt? Is something going on at school?" His dad popped around the corner as he was trying to ask Carole how she felt about the idea for <em>Marry You<em>.

"Dad! Haven't we talked about you interrupting while we're talking about wedding stuff?" Kurt demanded. Carole and he were sitting on the couch, the wedding binder between them, hammering out certain details. Carole had already called the priest, who had been happy to call Kurt and take any suggestions Kurt had for him. Kurt had pages.

"It is _my_ wedding, you know that, right?" Burt asked. When Kurt ignored him, he said, "Mercedes just called my cell phone, and she seemed pretty worried about you. Rachel was there, something about a Glee-girls-with-boyfriends meeting?" more of a question than anything, and Kurt shrugged. He knew the girls occasionally met without him, but he'd never heard of them excluding girls that didn't have boyfriends. That was just rude. "Is something going on?"

"The girls are worried about me suddenly, but nothing changed and there's nothing to worry about." It was the first big lie he had ever told his dad, and also the first time his stomach had churned that week that didn't involve Karofsky.

"Promise?" Burt asked firmly.

"Promise," Kurt lied. Apparently, he had gotten better at lying, because his voice didn't raise, he didn't stutter, and his dad accepted his lie with a raise and lowering of his baseball cap.

"All right then. I would suggest calming them down a little. You know how your girls get." Kurt smiled. His girls. What a crazy group.

"Yeah, I will. You heading to bed?" Kurt asked, and his dad nodded.

"Goodnight, sweetie. Goodnight, kiddo."

"Night, dad."

"Night, hun."

Burt headed for the stairs, paused, and turned back to the living room. "Buddy?"

"Yeah?"

"What's with the sweats?" Kurt shrugged. He had been so lazy when he got home, he didn't feel like dealing with his dirty designer pants, so he had pulled on some non-fabulous sweat pants and a McKinley athletics shirt. He was surprised Carole hadn't asked when she first saw him. Maybe she thought it had to do with Blaine. "All right. Night."

"Blaine issues?" Carole asked once his dad was up the stairs. Kurt mentally patted himself on the back. His powers of deduction when it came to women were amazing.

"Something like that," he half-lied easily. His to-be step-mother didn't know him nearly as well as his father did. "How do you feel about Craig's for catering?"

"Perfect. Cheap, in comparison, and good food. What do you think about hair and makeup?"

"We do each others remarkably well."

* * *

><p>Kurt had no idea what Madame Moreau was talking about. Yes, he was fluent in French, but he had focused back on class (from Blaine, of course) in the middle of a discussion and was confused out of his mind. Giving up on the idea of paying attention in French class, he started doodling. About half a design for Quinn's hair later, his phone buzzed.<p>

From: Blaine  
>'<em>How goes leaning on the friends for support?<em>'

Kurt bit his lip. He could lie to his girls, he could lie to Carole, he could even lie to his dad. Could he lie to Blaine?

To: Blaine  
><em>'I opened up to Sam... a little.'<em>

From: Blaine  
><em>'You haven't clued any of them in, have you?'<em>

To: Blaine  
><em>'I can't let the girls get hurt, and the guys don't care enough to ask.'<em>

From: Blaine  
><em>'I wish I could be there.'<em>

Kurt continued nibbling on his lip, knowing he would regret it later. Was telling Blaine a good idea?

To: Blaine  
><em>'He approached me again yesterday.'<em>

The response was almost instantaneous.

From: Blaine  
><em>'What happened?'<em>

To: Blaine  
><em>'He almost, I think he tried to, his hand was almost... down there.'<em>

Kurt blushed sending off that text. It was about as far from titillating as possible, but talking to Blaine about things below the equator was kind of... Kurt didn't know how to describe it. Scary would be one way, but it was more than that. Before Kurt could get lost in his musing, his phone buzzed again.

From: Blaine  
><em>'Ignoring how third grade that sounds, this is getting really dangerous, Kurt. You *have* to tell someone... or I will. Good secrets and bad secrets, remember?'<em>

To: Blaine  
><em>'Who do you want me to tell? My father. He would pull out his shotgun and take care of it himself. A teacher? Like who? Mr. Schuester? He would send me to Mrs. Sylvester, who would bring it to the school board. It would be my word against him, and the one out of the closet would lose. My girls? What could they do? Who do you want me to tell, Blaine?"<em>

From: Blaine  
><em>'Guidance counselor? The police? Someone must have seen something. Someone must be a witness.'<em>

To: Blaine  
><em>'The guidance counselor would do the exact same thing Mr. Schue would. Plus, she has enough issues of her own without mine. The police wouldn't be able to prove it any more than the school board would, and Lima cops are prejudiced. Plus, no one would speak out against Karofsky, even to put him away for something like this. They would be too afraid of the consequences from the other football players.'<em>

From: Blaine  
><em>'This is so messed up.'<em>

To: Blaine  
><em>'Tell me about it.'<em>

* * *

><p>"Oh my God, Sam," Kurt breathed as Sam walked into the room with Quinn. Kurt hadn't seen him before lunch rehearsal, and now that he had he could see the dark red eye he was sporting.<p>

"Kurt, it's cool," Sam tried to comfort him quickly as they sat down next to him. Quinn pressed an ice bag Kurt recognized as the type the nurse had to his eye for a bit, then placed it back down.

"I told you to leave it alone," Kurt said, looking down at his feet.

"Kurt..."

"Way to go, Sam!" Mike said as he, Artie, Tina, and Brittany walked through the door, followed by most of the club. He had clearly missed something.

"Wicked black eye, dude," Puck added, sitting in the top row.

"Dude was like a wild animal," Mike added from behind them, where Tina was holding his arm almost proudly.

"Manimal," Artie invented, sitting with Brittany next to Sam and Quinn.

"I'm so turned on by you right now," Brittany said to Artie.

"How bad does it look?" Sam asked, and Kurt could almost ignore the vanity in the guy that had stood up for him. Almost.

"It's pretty hot, actually," Quinn said with a smile. Was that all girls thought about? Weren't guys supposed to be the ones with that constantly on their minds?

"You have no idea how hard it was not to jump into that beat-down," Puck practically growled.

"Where were you, Finn?" Santana asked snottily. Honestly, Kurt had been wondering the same thing. Where had the only one who claimed to be his friend been when the Glee guys were defending him?

"I was still out on the field, okay?" Finn said, immediately too over defensive. Finn wouldn't have helped if he could have. It wasn't that Kurt didn't believe him, it's just that Kurt believed he didn't consider that a bad thing. He couldn't deny that hurt, but he could pretend it didn't. Just until the bell rang. "I totally would have given him a beat-down if I'd been there, though." Rachel was nodding along like a proud girlfriend, but Kurt could tell she didn't believe it either.

"The fact is, it shouldn't have gone down without you, Finn," Mercedes added, the only one openly willing to admit that no one believed Finn. "You should have been leading the charge.

"Lay off Finn, everyone. It isn't his problem. It's none of your problems, actually. But thank you for what you did. Especially Sam." Kurt knew why he had done it, even if no one else in the room did. The real reason. Yesterday.

"Serious. An epitome of a leader," Mike added from behind him, and it suddenly all made sense. Why Finn had been acting the way he'd been acting lately. Why he was so over defensive. Why he had asked Kurt to let him do something leader-like for the wedding. He was afraid Sam was taking over his responsibility.

"What's going on?" Mr. Schue asked as he entered the room, clearly taking in everyone's solemn expressions and Sam's black eye. "What happened to Sam's eye?"

"He stood up to Karofsky," Quinn replied. Kurt bit his lip. This was all his fault. He couldn't even look Sam in the eye, and not for the reason most people would expect.

"All the guys did," Tina added. "Well, not Finn."

"Is everyone okay? Do we all need to go talk to Principal Sylvester?" Mr. Schue could deny it all he wanted, but Kurt could tell he actually appreciated having a functioning and capable principal, even if that role was filled by Coach Sylvester.

"No!" Sam said quickly. "Uh, I got in a few good licks too, so we can just call it even. And maybe this will send a warning to Karofsky, telling him to back off Kurt." Mr. Schuester frowned as Sam talked, headed for Kurt.

"You okay, Kurt?" Mr. Schue asked him, touching his shoulder lightly. Kurt nodded quickly. He wasn't the one everyone should be concerned about. Right now, that person was Sam.

"All right, guys," Mr. Schue began Glee, hand still on Kurt's shoulder. Let's take out places. We've got a wedding to prepare for." Somehow, it didn't seem exactly the joyous time it should have been.

* * *

><p>Kurt was picking up the sheets of choreography Rachel had left on the piano for his wedding binder. What she had come up with, with the help of Tina, Mike, and Brittany, was much better than anything he had been thinking. Where had his inspiration gone?<p>

He knew Sam was waiting to talk to him, and that the (fake) blond boy had sent Quinn away, but he was in no hurry to have this conversation. They would both be late to next period anyway. "So what exactly happened?" he asked. "I feel like I missed a lot, somehow, and it all had to do with me."

"I'll tell you if you tell me," Sam said, but Kurt couldn't. He just couldn't.

"No promises." Clearly taking that as the best he was going to get, Sam sat down on the piano bench opposite Kurt.

"Tina and Brittany asked Mike and Artie to talk to Karofsky. I guess it was a girlfriend to boyfriend thing, and since Quinn and I aren't really together, I wasn't asked." Sam paused, as though he knew what Kurt was going to ask.

"I'm guessing Rachel asked Finn?"

"I don't know what happened there, dude. I just know they had some sort of meeting, and Rachel was the head of it."

"The Glee-girls-with-boyfriends meeting," Kurt whispered. Everything was starting to come together.

"What?"

"Nothing. You were saying?"

"Well, Quinn only told me that this morning. Last night after practice, Mike and Artie tried to talk to Karofsky, but, to be honest,, neither of them are very intimidating. So Karofsky shoved Mike into Artie, which pushed Artie out of his chair. Puck went over to help."

"An incredible show of willpower," Kurt said dryly, and Sam chuckled.

"Yeah. So, after... y'know, yesterday, I was already so mad at Karofsky that I kind of went..."

"Manimal?" Kurt supplied since Sam seemed at a loss for words.

"Yeah. Next thing I knew Beiste was pulling him off he and I still wanted to rip his fucking face off." Kurt raised his eyebrows. Sam never swore. "Sorry. The black eye developed last night, I don't even remember it happening." That was meant to make him feel less guilty. He didn't.

"Like I said, I appreciate you intervening, but this isn't your fight." Kurt stuffed the last paper in his binder and shut it. He looked up at Sam, who looked a bit like a kicked puppy. GaGa, he reminded Kurt so much of Finn. "Thank you, Sam, but I fight my own battles. Violence never helps."

Kurt walked out quickly, knowing Sam would follow him. He only paused when he noticed a piece of paper taped to his locker. Pulling it off, he read it, and almost laughed at how pathetically anticlimactic it was.

"What's it say?" Sam had obviously caught up to him.

"Don't try that shit again, homo," Kurt read it verbatim to Sam. "I hate to say it, but I don't think you giving Karofsky a few bruises had any effect, except maybe to make him mad." Kurt strutted off the next period, leaving the paper on the ground by his locker.

* * *

><p>"Thank you both for attending the Kurt Hummel wedding dance seminar." Kurt hated acting happy for his father, but it was worth it. His dad didn't need to know what was going on. It would be too stressful for him. Besides, the wedding <em>was<em> his only source of happiness at this point. Except Blaine, but right now all he was set up for was a very angry phone call later. 'Let people help you', his ass. "Dad, you're gonna have to pull off the first dance with Carole. And if Uncle Andy's 40th birthday party was any indication, you're gonna need some work."

"What are you talking about? My moves were great. Okay? It was the damn sangria." Kurt rolled his eyes and walked forward to grab his dad's hand.

"Okay, we dance to the beat, not to the words."

"Affected my coordination," Burt grumbled as Kurt pulled him to the middle of the floor to dance.

"Yes," Kurt appeased him. "Right here. Okay. All right. Have you guys chosen a, no," Kurt corrected as his dad tried to put his hand on his shoulder, redirecting to his waist (no, he was _not_ thinking about how close his dad's hand was to where Karofsky's had been yesterday), "wedding song?"

"Ah, yes. We're thinking _Stairway_ or some Bublé." Good thing they weren't doing _Everything _then. When there were only two songs, they did _not_ want to have the same artist for both of them.

"Okay," Kurt said in acquiescence to his dad's bizarre choices. It was _his_ wedding, as he had so frequently reminded Kurt. "Great. So it's basically one, two, three, four. Okay." Easy enough dance to teach him. Kurt nodded to the pianist. "Follow me. All right. Gentleman leads on the left. Right. Opposite of me. Okay? Get ready."

"Opposite," Burt muttered to himself.

"One, two, three, four," Kurt said exaggeratedly as he guided his dad through the steps without actually taking the lead. "Okay. Good. And back."

"Look at me. I'm dancing, huh? Look at that!" his dad exclaimed excitedly, still looking down at their feet.

"Yeah. Okay, okay. Come over here, and dance with yourself. Practice." Kurt pushed his dad aside and headed for the center of the room, resolve set by how well he had done with his dad. This didn't _have _to be awkward, right?

"Come on, Finn. No chickening out. I did it. You gotta do it too." Kurt mentally thanked his dad for encouraging Finn.

Kurt jerked his head as instruction to Finn, who breathed out heavily. "Okay. Uh-"

"My feet are moving, and there's music," his dad said happily behind them.

"All right," Kurt said, eclipsed by his dad. "Position." Kurt gestured for Finn to get into position.

"That's dancing," Burt said from behind them. Finn looked towards the door.

"C-Can we shut the door? I'm not really comfortable with people watching."

"What are you talking about? You danced in front of a thousand people at Regionals." Kurt refused to accept the possibility it was because Finn had to dance with him. They had moved beyond that, right?

Finn nodded in acceptance and joined hands with Kurt, then looked quickly at the door, letting their hands down. Kurt turned to see Karofsky waving a limp wrist. Kurt wondered impassively if he was mocking him, Finn, or both. After all that had happened in the past week with Karofsky, he couldn't care less about a little teasing from far away, but he knew Finn wouldn't feel that way. After all, isn't that why Finn didn't want to protect him?

The music stopped as Karofsky left from his spot in their doorway. "What the hell was that?" his dad asked from behind Finn.

"It's nothing, Dad." Kurt mentally added 'comparatively' to his sentence in his head.

"That was not nothing. That guy was making fun of you." It occurred to Kurt then. It was happened. His dad was going to find out about everything that was happening with Karofsky. Suddenly the sweats and the phone call was all going to make sense to him. "What the hell's his name?"

"Tell him, Kurt," Finn said quietly.

"Tell me what?" Burt demanded. He kind of saw in that moment why some people thought his dad was scary. Kind of.

"Tell him, or I will," Finn practically whispered.

"His name's Dave Karofsky. He's," Kurt shook his head, "been harassing me for a few weeks now," Kurt admitted. This would not end well.

"Harassing you how?" Burt said, low and dangerous.

"Just shoving me and giving me a hard time." Burt looked behind himself just in time to see Karofsky walk past the other entrance to the choir room. How slow was he walking?

"There's more. There's something else you're not telling me." Of course, his dad picked today to be super observant. Could he lie to his father again?

"He threatened to kill me," Kurt said honestly. It wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the whole truth. Burt was heading for the door almost before he finished the sentence.

"_What_? You gotta be kidding me." Finn said, and he sounded... shocked, and almost remorseful. Like he would have done something if he'd known that. Then it occurred to them both. "Burt!" Finn called after him, running out of the choir room. Kurt followed just as fast.

"Why don't you try me?" Burt demanded of Karofsky, who he had up against the wall with an arm pressed against his neck when Kurt and Finn caught up.

"Burt, stop!" Finn demanded.

"Please, you're sick," Kurt said insistently, pulling his dad off. Why did everyone have to try and get themselves hurt worrying about him? "Come on."

Burt let Karofsky go, but Kurt knew it had nothing to do with Finn or Kurt. He just didn't want to get assault charges. Finn was still holding him, as if he was afraid Burt would bolt after him and wring his neck. Kurt wouldn't be surprised.

"What the hell have you been doing while this is all going on, huh?" Burt demanded of Finn once the jock had let his dad go. Kurt sighed as his dad stormed past; Finn stood there stunned.

* * *

><p>"Are you happy now?" was how Kurt answered Blaine's call that afternoon.<p>

"'Hi, Blaine.' 'Hi, Kurt, how are you?' 'How do you think I am, Blaine?'" Blaine stopped there. "Actually, I guess there's no chance of me getting a happy greeting, huh?"

"I let the guys get involved," Kurt continued, ignoring him, "and all I got for it was an angry Karofsky, a black eye for Sam, the revelation that my soon-to-be step-brother doesn't care about my safety, a confrontation between Karofsky and my dad, and an appointment to meet the principal tomorrow. _Are you happy now_?"

"About the first three things: no. The fourth: medium. The last: oh yeah." Blaine knew he was going to get _so_ bitched out for that.

"_Blaine!_" The volume and pitch of Kurt's shriek almost blew Blaine's ear. "What is _wrong_ with you? My father has a serious condition, he should not be trying to fight my battles. And Coach Sylvester isn't going to be able to do anything, and we're going to get _nowhere_." A rush of static indicated that Kurt sighed.

"Stop calling them 'your battles'. Everyone that loves you wants to help you, whether you like it or not. Your girls, your dad, me, everyone who cares about you wants to protect you. Why can't you just let us?"

"Because I feel horrible when people get hurt for my sake," Kurt admitted, and Blaine sighed.

"Why did Sam get a black eye?" Blaine asked.

"Because he tried to beat up someone twice as big as him," Kurt replied, snarkily but confused.

"And why did he do that?"

"Because Karofsky made him mad," Kurt replied, and now he sounded more confused than anything.

"And what about Karofsky made him mad?" Blaine said. One can only lead a horse to water.

"Him picking on me. I still don't get your point."

"Everyone has free will, Kurt. No one else got a black eye trying to protect you. Sam did what he did because he wanted to protect you. I don't even know the guy and I can guarantee that he doesn't regret what he did, and he doesn't care that he got a black eye doing it."

"I still feel bad."

"You're a hopeless case. _People want to help you_. Let them." Kurt sighed again.

"I suppose. Tell me crazy stories about the people that live in your dorm and make me feel better. I'm dreading tomorrow."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Seven thousand words of story in apology for the fact that I vanished off the face of the earth for the past... oh, 3 weeks? 4? I don't even know anymore.**

**I know this was a little dramatic, but I really feel like Karofsky wouldn't have stopped there, with the way he was acting. Plus, as awesome as Sam is, he needed **_**some**_** motivation to throw himself into the fray. So, I provided it for him. I hope you all enjoyed. Sam has a bigger part in this than he did in the show because, well, I like him. He's sweet.**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_Everything_' by Michael Bublé (mentioned)  
>'<em>Marry You<em>' by Bruno Mars  
>'<em>Stairway to Heaven<em>' by Led Zeppelin (mentioned)  
>'<em>A House Is Not A Home<em>'by Dionne Warwick (mentioned)

**Reviews are Love.**


	11. It's a Wonderful World

**A/N: Apologizing for lateness as usual. Uniform apologies... I'm really busy lately guys, and I apologize... as usual. Some canon in this chapter, and I love the way Glee totally ignores most holidays. So, I decided not to. Thanksgiving fluff! It'll help counteract canon angst. Read on.**

* * *

><p>Kurt's stomach twisted. Not that it hadn't been twisted for the entire day, but it tangled tighter sitting in Coach's office. He was the first one there, his father having called to announce that he would be a little late, and Coach Sylvester having decided that she wouldn't put Karofsky in the same room as Kurt until both of their fathers were present.<p>

"Porcelain, explain the spew face," Coach Sylvester said, leaning forward with her elbows on her desk and her fingers steepled. Kurt almost felt like the one in trouble, even though he knew that wasn't at all true.

"This is pointless," Kurt explained, and Coach was so far the only one who hadn't interrupted him after a statement like that. "You'll suspend him, the school board will look for proof besides my word, I'll have none, and we'll be back to square one, except with a Karofsky who has more of a reason to hate me." Coach Sylvester sighed.

"Porcelain, I'm going to be brutally frank with you in hopes of getting sporadic words through the helmet of product you have, rivaled only by the dirty, greasy rags that William calls 'hair'. Who do you think the ignorant floaters are more scared of? OJ Simpson's younger, chubbier cousin, or the descendent of the fearsome psychological weapon of World War II, George S. Patton?"

"Isn't comparing Karofsky to OJ Simpson a little... dramatic?" And this was coming from the Glee club's second-biggest diva.

"Perhaps, but the verdict would be the same." Kurt tried not to laugh, even thought it was a joke about his own murder. She had a point, and she had distracted him. He could see his dad outside the office. The only reason he wasn't looking around in confusion was because he had been in the principal's office before, fighting Kurt's battles.

"Thank you, Coach Sylvester," Kurt said with a smile. In her own way, she really did look out for the students she liked.

"For what? Delivering the harsh truths that William the Spineless Schuester is unwilling to?" Coach Sylvester asked sharply. Clearly, the moment was over. "Here's your Papa Bear, Porcelain."

"Hey, kiddo," his dad said with a grimace as he took a seat on the couch next to Kurt, walking into the office without paying any mind to the secretary who had asked for his name. Kurt was shocked Coach Sylvester hadn't fired her by now.

"Hey, dad," Kurt said, attempting a weak smile. This was going to be the longest meeting of his life, and it would probably be pretty short. Burt put a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Bring in the Karofskys," Coach Sylvester said seemingly into the open air, but moments later the secretary stood up from her desk, walked into the hall, and gestured the Karofskys, who had apparently been waiting there, into Coach Sylvester's office. So that was why Coach Sylvester kept her around... now the only question was how the secretary had heard Coach through the door. "Hello Mr. Simpson. Little Simpson." Kurt tried not to laugh at the matching confused expressions on their faces.

Mr. Karofsky was immediately endeared to Kurt by how disappointed and unhappy he seemed to be there. He was an older man, dressed respectfully, and Kurt couldn't hate him for what Karofsky had done to him. One couldn't choose their family, and a parent should love their kid no matter what.

"Now that you are all here, and seem to be able to remain civil on separate couches, we should probably discuss the issue that lead to an unnecessarily dramatic confrontation in the hallway yesterday which I had to explain to the floaters so that they didn't start rumors." Coach Sylvester cleared her throat and stood up, standing in front of her desk and leaning on it to be able to address the polar opposite parties on the couches on opposite sides of her rooms. "So it seems the situation has reached a boiling point." It was weird to hear Ms. Sylvester being formal, the way she was with people she demanded respect, instead of fear, from.

"You're damn right it has," Burt barked quickly. Kurt avoided both Karofskys' eyes, glad that the younger Karofsky wasn't staring at him for once.

"Nothing happened," Karofsky lied.

"I'll tell you what really happened," Burt said, directing his statement directly to Mr. Karofsky. "Mr. Karofsky-"

"My name's Paul," Mr. Karofsky interjected. Kurt knew his dad wouldn't like that.

"Paul, your kid threatened the life of my son." Or it was possible Burt was too angry about the issue to care about Mr. Karofsky's interruptions. Kurt could understand that, after the weeks he'd had. Tense silence followed his dad's statement as Mr. Karofsky looked at his son, as if hoping he was going to deny that.

"Porcelain," maybe not entirely formal, "is that true?"

Kurt was about to reply in the affirmative, but his throat closed up at Paul Karofsky's gaze. He looked so pained and hopeful. Kurt almost felt bad that he had mentioned it, that this was happening, because he knew that kind of pain. It was the kind of pain he had felt when Finn didn't defend him. The pain of being betrayed by your family.

"That's not true," Karofsky denied. "I didn't say anything."

"That's what he said," Kurt interjected, his resolve strengthening. Yes, he felt bad for Mr. Karofsky, but he couldn't let this continue because someone was hurting. Didn't it matter that _he _was hurting? "He said he would kill me if I told anyone."

"If you told anyone what?" Coach Sylvester asked as Kurt looked to her for strength. If there was anything the fearsome coach was good for, strength definitely was it.

Kurt hesitated. On one hand, outing Karofsky to three people in order to end his problems wasn't the worst thing he could think of. On the other, one of those people was Karofsky's _father_. Blaine's words rang in his ears. _Good people _do not out _scared little boys_. Then Kurt made eye contact with Karofsky, and the look on his face wasn't intimidating. It was scared. After all, that's all Karofsky was, right? And Kurt had to be the good guy in this. It wasn't fair, but it was life.

"Just... that he was picking on me," Kurt said weakly.

Karofsky sighed. To everyone else in the room, it was exasperation. Kurt knew it was relief. "He's making all this stuff up."

"Oh, is that right?" his dad asked immediately, and maybe living with Kurt _did_ make people more sassy.

"Hold on a sec," Mr. Karofsky spoke up for the first time. "You have been acting differently lately, David." It was the first time Kurt had ever heard someone call him David. "You used to get A's and B's. You're talking back, you're acting out, and now we're sitting here." So, David had been acting like someone repressed before, but no one had noticed. It made Kurt feel almost _bad_ for him. "So let me ask you... why would Kurt make that up?" Paul asked, pointing towards Kurt and making him on instinct want to shrink away. He immediately felt silly. For Pete's sake, picking on him wasn't genetic.

Kurt couldn't help but look at his tormentor, wondering what Karofsky would come up with. "Maybe he likes me." Kurt wanted to scream in rage. How _dare_ he? How dare he say something like that, when Kurt knew it was exactly the other way around? _How dare he_? Kurt sighed, trying not to clench his fists. Hitting Karofsky wouldn't solve anything. And how dare he direct that to his father, not even look at Kurt at all, even when that had been his primary activity in the last few weeks?

"I think we're wasting out time here," Burt said, obviously as angry as Kurt was for an entirely different reason. "It's your job to protect people," he directed at Ms. Sylvester.

"Couldn't agree more," Coach said, and it was almost scary how well Ms. Sylvester and his dad got along. "After hearing both sides of the story, you are hereby expelled. I will not have one student threatening the life of another." Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. No time wasted on suspension. That was just like Coach. "If you don't think this is fair, well, you can appeal to the school board. You'll leave campus immediately."

Karofsky sighed, looking between his father and Kurt but not saying anything, to Kurt's relief. Kurt wasn't sure he could keep his mouth shut if Karofsky dared say something else.

"I appreciate your time," Mr. Karofsky said to Coach with a heavy sigh. Both Karofskys stood up to leave, the younger shaking his head infinitesimally at Kurt as he walked past.

This wasn't over.

Burt stood up to watch them leave, watching them go as he did. At the last moment, he turned to Coach Sylvester. "Thank you." His tone seemed to imply that he was thanking her for no reason, because she had done exactly what she was obligated to do. Kurt couldn't agree more.

"Enjoy your wedding," Coach Sylvester replied. This was probably the nicest wedding gift she had ever given anyone. "Porcelain, puke or not, and then head to the cave of whining and wailing that you misfits and wannabes love. I'm sure Mr. Schuester and the talking Disney animals living in his hair will be waiting for you."

Kurt stood up, murmured his thanks to Coach Sylvester, and left, heading for the choir room as Ms. Sylvester suggested (he thought. He wasn't entirely sure). Karofsky would be gone. Gone from the hallways, gone from the cafeteria. The football players would be wondering, the Glee club would be rejoicing, at least until the extra slushies started coming. It would never end.

True to Coach Sylvester's guess, Mr. Schuester was waiting in his office with the door open, but Kurt ignored him. The last thing he needed was some mildly comforting words and another cup of water from a Mr. Schuester who wanted to seem concerned about and sympathetic to his students.

"Seven-eight-two... four-three-two-nine," Kurt muttered to himself as he typed the number in. It was, of course, in his contacts, but it almost felt better knowing he had memorized it, considering what had almost happened to his iPhone many times, and how long it would take to get that number again.

He hesitated before pressing 'call'. It was only second period. Blaine would be in class, and he wouldn't answer his phone at Dalton. Kurt had seen enough of the school to know he would never get away with that. But... he _needed_ Blaine. After all, the tenor had been the one encouraging him to reach out to those who cared about him. Didn't Blaine count?

"You are so predictable." The fond words were the first thing he heard when Blaine answered the phone. "That seemed like a short meeting."

"Karofsky's expelled," Kurt said, the words sinking in as he said them. Karofsky was _gone_.

"Kurt, that's fantastic!" Blaine sounded genuinely excited. "And you didn't have to tell them about..."

"No," Kurt said, not waiting for Blaine to finish the sentence. "I didn't out him," he whispered, aware for the first time that Mr. Schuester could probably hear him."

"I'm proud of you," Blaine said, and Kurt could tell he was smiling by his tone. "What did you tell them that made them realize this was serious, then?" he asked as if the thought had just occurred to him.

"That he threatened to kill me," Kurt replied, kind of feeling like singing and dancing and twirling around as he realized he would never have to see Karofsky's ugly, repressed mug picking on him again. He didn't even care about the retaliation from the other football players. Normal bullying he could handle. "My reason why when I didn't out him was kind of weak, but Coach Sylvester is smart. I think she could tell something else was going on. Knowing her and her love of espionage and cameras, she probably already knows about the... locker room."

"I'm happy for you, Kurt. I really, really am. No more Karofsky." Blaine sounded as relieved as Kurt was.

"How are you even answering this phone call? More delinquency?" Kurt asked, taking a seat at the piano bench so he didn't start dancing around like an idiot.

"Yep. I'm hiding from the administration in the one room they never dare enter," Blaine said, decidedly mysterious. "_Do not ask!_ You don't wanna know. Trust me."

"I'll take your word for it," Kurt said with a laugh, then sighed. "Our director, who apparently expected me to suddenly act characteristic of Finn and come to him for slightly inappropriate comfort as my first reaction to news, is probably getting annoyed with me, so I should go. Can't risk not getting a solo," he added, slightly bitterly.

"He's stupid if he can't see that you're the most amazing, unique, and talented singer there," Blaine said, and Kurt felt the familiar wanting to pull his own hair out at the fact Blaine said things like that but wasn't flirting _at all_. "I'll let you go. Coffee later?"

"I can't. My dad will probably want to talk to me about the meeting, and I have _so_ much wedding planning to do." Kurt grinned. He had no Karofsky and a _wedding to plan_! The only bad thing in his life was that he couldn't see Blaine, and even that couldn't bring him down.

"All right, I'll call you tonight per usual." Kurt was just about to say goodbye when the line went dead with a beep. Apparently, delinquency made Blaine jumpy.

"How did the meeting go?" Mr. Schuester asked once Kurt stepped into his office, the typical bathroom cup of water already resting on his desk. Oh, how Kurt loved these meetings of theirs.

"Coach Sylvester took care of everything. She makes a remarkable principal." Step one: continually compliment the only person whom the person you're talking to hates.

"She's made some good decisions," Mr. Schuester admitted begrudgingly. Point Hummel. "She sent an email to all the teachers that David has been expelled."

"I do believe that threatening someone's life is against school policy," Kurt commented dryly, taking a sip of his water.

"Kurt, that was unnecessary. You owe me some respect." _Why?_ Kurt wanted to ask, but he refrained. The last thing he needed was Mr. Schuester hounding him.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he really couldn't help if it came out sarcastically. Mr. Schuester sighed, but let it go.

"She asked us to reply if we had anything else we wanted to add to charges we have against Karofsky. So I'm going to ask you if there's anything you want to add to the list besides general harassment and intense threatening. I trust you not to lie to me." Ignoring that saying that made it seem less likely for some reason, Kurt thought on it. 'Intense threatening' was kind of vague, but he could let that slide.

"Throwing me in the dumpster. Harassing me after football practices. Slamming me into lockers to the point of physical damage." _Sexually assaulting me_. "Slurs. Generalized homophobia. I'm sure if you gave me more time I could think of something else." Mr. Schuester nodded slowly as he typed, and Kurt had an odd feeling that he was being misrepresented to Mr. Schuester's keyboard.

"You don't have to go to any more classes today if you don't want to," Mr. Schuester said, in that I'm-so-understanding voice that Kurt sincerely hoped no one believed.

"Thanks all the same, but I'm going to go enjoy my terror-less high school experience for as long as it lasts." Kurt stood up, leaving the cup of water where Mr. Schue'd had it before.

* * *

><p>"I'm so happy for you!" Rachel squeaked, throwing her arms around Kurt, and for once Kurt felt charitable enough to hug her in return.<p>

"Rachel, stop monopolizing my boy," Mercedes demanded, but she was smiling. Everyone but Finn was, and it was kind of an awesome feeling, to be happy and to have everyone else around him happy. Ignoring the fact that Mr. Schue was still being a dink about earlier, and Finn was still as much of a dink as he had been his entire life.

Rachel had been hugging Kurt for about twenty seconds when Mercedes peeled him off and squeezed Kurt till he was blue. "Mercy... air..." he gasped out and she let him go.

"I would hug you, but I might catch the homo cooties," Santana said bitingly, pulling Brittany away too.

"If you haven't already," Quinn commented under her breath, making Mercedes and Kurt laugh.

"Quinn, that's quite offensive to Kurt, implying that homosexuality is _actually_ comparable to cooties-"

"Rachel, if I don't have a problem with it, you have no right to," Kurt cut her off, but he gave her a smile and she seemed appeased.

"Santana, don't be a bitch," Puck commented as he walked in, offering Kurt a fist bump, which he hesitantly returned. There were too many bad memories accompanied with fists like that for him to be comfortable.

"No, you lost any right to have an opinion on Friday, when you-"

"Santana, dearest, I love you both to pieces, but frankly no one here wants to hear vivid, depraved stories of you and Puck getting naked," Kurt cut her off as well as Tina gave him a hug. Why did girls hug him so much?

"I think you've been spending a little too much time with Miss Sylvester, Kurt," Quinn said with a smile, giving him one of her hugs that always seemed motherly.

"Only naughty delinquents spend time with the principal," Mercedes teased.

"Speaking of delinquents," Kurt said with a smile, waving his phone at Mercedes, "we'll talk later."

"Please, dear Lord, let white boy have something other than pathetic excuses," Mercedes said with a wide grin, and Kurt was sorry to disappoint her, but he needed her opinion.

"_Later_," he said with a quick glance at Rachel, and Mercedes sighed.

"Fine. But I'm not happy." Kurt rolled his eyes.

"It's not my job to make you happy."

"You're right. It's your job to find someone to make me happy. Get on it!" They both burst out laughing.

"Sometimes I'm concerned by how in-sync the two of you are," Artie commented, wheeled up next to Sam, who was looking longingly at Quinn. Quinn was avoiding eye contact.

"I am personally offended that you two are keeping secrets from the rest of the group. We're supposed to be a family. And secrets don't make friends," Rachel said, a little bit childishly.

"Friends make secrets," Mercedes and Kurt said at the same time, then started laughing again.

"Rach, give up. Besides, we probably don't _wanna_ know what they're talkin' about," Puck said, offering Kurt another fist bump.

Kurt looked at his fist in disdain. "Not a chance. I know where that's been."

"Up Sanny's skirt?" Brittany offered as if she couldn't figure out what Kurt was referring to. To be fair, she couldn't figure out much of anything.

"Exactly." Kurt wrinkled his nose, and Santana smirked.

"I think I would know if Kurt was seeing someone," Rachel said, glaring at Puck. "My psychic powers would tell me."

"Your psychic powers didn't tell you that our set list was going to get stolen last year," Tina pointed out.

"Your psychic powers didn't tell you that Karofsky was going to get expelled," Mercedes butted in.

"It would have been helpful if your psychic powers had told me that I apparently have no chance with Quinn," Sam said, a little bit pettily. Quinn ignored him.

"Your psychic powers didn't tell you that Finn-"

"Guys, lay off," Finn said quickly, and Kurt looked back and forth between his soon-to-be step-brother and the Cheerio. Something was going on there. Luckily, Rachel was oblivious as usual.

"I know everything about Finn. We have no secrets from each other," Rachel said proudly.

"Course not," Finn said quickly, giving her a kiss. No matter how long they had dated, they always looked awkward whenever they made physical contact.

"All right guys, let's get to rehearsing. Kurt, I believe you can give us the low down on the finished format as far as the musicality of the wedding goes," Mr. Schue said as he walked in, sitting on his stool near the band and giving Kurt the floor, literally.

"Mike, Tina, Santana, Brittany... and Rachel finished the choreography for _Marry You_ by Bruno Mars, which is the finalized version for all bridesmaids, ushers, and best men to walk down the aisle. However, Dad and Carole also thought it might be fun to dance down the aisle, fictional-God help us all." Everyone laughed. "I was thinking we could just let them freestyle. After all, any choreography is going to go right out of their heads the moment they step onto the aisle."

"Let's hope they don't get cold feet!" Tina said with a laugh.

"I would," Mike murmured. Tina frowned.

"Exactly. No need to make them more nervous. We'll go over the choreography for the first time today. And the wedding song they've decided on, Mr. Schuester, is _Sway_ by Michael Bublé. You can figure out your arrangements for that, with any backup you would like except for me or Finn. Choreography team, you have the floor." Kurt took a seat next to Mercedes, his wedding binder in his hands. The world looked bright.

* * *

><p>"You're home a little late. How was the rest of your day, kiddo?" Kurt jumped about a foot at his dad's voice coming from the living room. His dad was <em>never<em> home when he got home from school.

"I was mailing the invitations. Did you take the entire day off?" Kurt asked instead of answering his question, dropping his messenger bag on the kitchen counter.

"Figured it was no use going back to the garage and bashing someone's head in with a wrench," Burt commented, taking a sip of his beer and not taking his eyes off the episode of _Top Gear UK_ he was watching. "God their accents annoy me."

"I have a feeling Uncle Andy would be your first target," Kurt said with a laugh, sitting on the couch and curling up next to his dad like he used to when he was little. "And the rest of the day was fine. Much better than the beginning."

"You looked pretty mad. Especially when he suggested you were lying because..."

"Are we really talking about this? He's my _tormentor_, of course I've never liked him. I'm not _sick_." Kurt wrinkled his nose.

"Relax, kiddo, I wasn't suggesting that you do." Kurt sighed, resting his head on his dad's shoulder. he was being unfair with him. After all, his dad didn't know the real reason that made him so mad, and if he did, it would probably kill him.

"I'm sorry. Have you seen any houses that might be good?" Kurt asked, a little excited about moving. Their family had needed to move on for a long time. Even if this wasn't the greatest situation at the moment, everything would work out. "Preferably one with a basement."

"I seriously doubt that... that woman-"

"My grandmother. Your mother-in-law," Kurt corrected, knowing exactly what his dad wanted to call the woman that had paid for his basement to be renovated to perfection.

"Would be willing to pay for another extravagant basement for you. Especially since you're only going to be living there for another two and a half years." Silence descended after Burt said that. Kurt leaving had always been a sensitive topic. "I'm gonna miss you, kiddo."

"Me too," Kurt whispered, glad his dad had said that. "For the sake of your own sleep, you're probably going to want a house with good insulation and soundproofing, because I will _never_ stop practicing ballads at all hours."

"And for your kids' sanity," Burt muttered.

"_Dad_," Kurt complained, wrinkling his nose and leaning away from his dad.

"Sorry, sorry." Burt laughed at his son's expression. "Wanna change it to something fashion-related I'll never understand?" he asked, handing Kurt the remote.

"This is fine," Kurt said, too happy to care that car shows bored him to tears. Yes, he loved engines and cars, but shows about them were unnecessary. "Maybe the American version though."

"Deal."

* * *

><p>"So how's Karofsky-less life?" Blaine asked instead of saying hello when he called Kurt after school, lounging in his room doing history homework with Charlie.<p>

"Who's Charlemagne?" Charlie asked, scanning his textbook as if nothing in it made sense to him. "Who's Karofsky?" he asked, clearly giving up on history. Why did Blaine call Kurt when Charlie was anywhere in his general vicinity again?

"Much better than life with Karofsky," Kurt said, but he sounded kind of subdued.

"You okay, Kurt?" Kurt had all the reason in the world to be happy right now.

"He'd be happier if he knew you were in love with him," Charlie commented, but he didn't actually say it loud enough for Kurt to hear. The crazy Warbler also tossed his history book of the bed and reached over Blaine for his math book.

"Shut up," he snapped at his best friend.

"What? What was that thump?" Kurt asked, and he was probably confusing the hell out of him.

"Nothing. Charlie's just being... Charlie. What's wrong?" Blaine asked as Charlie began on homework he could actually do.

"Nothing, I'm just stressed. I'm setting up the gift registry as per Carole's instructions as we speak, but only three of the girls have found their dresses, and one has a dress in the wrong color, so they're all trying on dresses in Columbus today and keep sending me pictures. The venue's all set, and I don't have to worry about the vows because the only priest I found who was even willing to talk to someone as blatantly sinful as I am suggested we make them speak whatever they can think of in the moment, but my dad's not exactly the most articulate and-"

"Kurt, breathe! You're going to have a heart attack." Plus the fact he'd said that whole diatribe in about two breaths and was now gasping for air.

"There's so much to do," Kurt said with a groan, but the frantic typing of keys he could hear never stopped. "I have ten days, Blaine. Ten. Days."

"Yes, but three of those ten days are weekend, so you'll be able to get more done. Plus, you _can_ ask other people for help. I'm sure Carole would be more than happy to volunteer time to plan her own wedding." Blaine rolled his eyes at his best friend.

"Speaking of weddings..." Charlie said with a grin, reaching over Blaine to grab something off his backpack.

"Get off me," Blaine said, shoving Charlie off and handing him his backpack.

"What was that?" Kurt asked, sounding confused.

"Nothing," Blaine said quickly, and Charlie died laughing.

"Speaking of the wedding..." Kurt began, and he sounded a little nervous. "I sent the invitations out today after school, pointedly avoiding sending any to my family, but Carole insisted on adding one more person to the list."

"And?" Blaine asked, not really seeing the point of Kurt telling him this, or of his nerves.

"You. Carole was wondering if you wanted to come to the wedding." Blaine's eyes widened as he looked over the notebook Charlie had clearly expanded on and shoved in his face.

"Good, huh?" Charlie smirked, clearly misinterpreting Blaine's reaction.

"What time is it on Sunday? I kind of have-"

"Oh, Blaine if you're busy-" Kurt sounded so disappointed.

"No!" Blaine objected quickly."I'd love to see the product of all your hard work. We just have rehearsal, so I might be a little late. I could talk to Wes..."

"Well, the ceremony's at 3, and then the reception's at 4 only because it will probably take time for all the guests to get to the reception hall. Carole _insisted_ on being married in a church," Blaine could tell Kurt was rolling his eyes, "so that made it a little more complicated."

"I can probably be there around four forty-five or five, would that be okay?" Blaine asked, feeling bad.

"Depending on how many speed limits you break," Charlie muttered. Their practice ended at four.

"That would be fine." Kurt paused. "You don't _have_ to come, you know. If you don't want to."

"I do want to, though," Blaine said with a smile. "I'm kind of honored to be invited, actually. I kind of got the feeling that your dad wouldn't approve."

"Bride's orders," Kurt said mischievously. "_No one_ argues with the bride. Not even me."

"Basically, your dad doesn't know." Kurt laughed.

"Nope. He's being totally hands-off as far as this goes, except to frequently remind me that it's _his_ wedding when I get annoyed with him for interrupting planning."

"So, what do you have left to do in your ten days?" Kurt groaned.

"Cake approval, dress approval, musical rehearsals, rehearsal dinner planning, flowers, favors, and programs."

"That doesn't sound like so much," Blaine said stupidly. He regretted that statement for the next half an hour of their conversation.

* * *

><p>"You better hope you have some major spillin' to do, boy," Mercedes demanded when he called her after Charlie hung the phone up on him on Blaine's end so they could do math homework.<p>

"I invited him to the wedding," Kurt said, holding the phone away from his ear.

The response was near instantaneous, and would have shattered his eardrum if he'd been holding the phone to his head. "_Thank the Lord!_" Mercedes yelled. "Seriously, white boy, I was ready to _end_ you."

"It's not a date, though," Kurt added and Mercedes groaned.

"You invited him to a _wedding_. I think he should get the hint. He did agree to come right?"

"Well, yes, but he's only coming to the reception, and he's going to be late because he has rehearsal. Besides..." Kurt hesitated.

"Besides, what?" Mercedes asked, her voice dangerous.

"I may have phrased it as if Carole was insisting he come. Which she did. I might have let my tone suggest I wanted him there, but wouldn't have asked unless she insisted." Kurt held the phone away from his ear again, but it turned out to be unnecessary.

"Dammit, boy. Why are you such a wimp when it comes to this guy? You obviously like him." Kurt sighed.

"I don't know. It's not like I'm a man-eater, Santana-type, Mercedes. I've never done this before, at least not with a guy that I have a chance with." Kurt leaned back on his bed, noticing with satisfaction that his bruises from lockers were starting to fade.

"I know, but Jesus, bo, at least do _something_. You're driving me crazy." Kurt ignored her.

"Besides, Rachel would _kill_ me. She's already suspicious as is. That 'my psychic abilities would have told me' stuff didn't fool me. She'll be watching." Mercedes and Kurt laughed at Rachel's craziness.

"What are you going to do when he shows up to the wedding?" Mercedes asked, but she sounded more amused than anything.

"Improvise, or try to recruit Finn in helping me avoid the two ever meeting."

"Yes, because Finn's been _such_ a good person lately," Mercedes said, and Kurt could tell his best girl was rolling her eyes.

"Lay off Finn. He's under a lot of pressure, and the wedding's only making it worse."

"If I didn't know you better, I would think that you were defending him." Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I _am_. I may not like Finn romantically anymore, but he's still my friend, and I still care about him. He's going to be my brother in ten days."

"_Step_-brother. And he's been such an _awesome_ friend lately," Mercedes pointed out, and Kurt sighed.

"Are we really going to argue about Finn, or are we going to gossip about Blaine?"  
>"The second one, please."<p>

"He's been the greatest person ever lately. He deals with all my ranting about the wedding, he always has good ideas, he talks to me about Karofsky, skips classes to see me or answer my calls. He's just..." Kurt sighed dreamily.

"A delinquent?" Mercedes said with a laugh, remembering Kurt's code word.

"_Perfect_," Kurt corrected. "He's perfect."

"Nobody's perfect, Kurt." The statement sounded more like a warning than a correction.

"I know that, Mercedes. I'm not stupid and I've watched enough bad relationships crash and burn around the New Directions that I know finding someone amazing in high school is unrealistic at best, but I really like him." Thinking of Charlie, Blaine, and their math homework, Kurt pulled out his own homework. He couldn't let his grades slip and not get into Julliard because of the wedding.

"I know you do, bo, but I'm willing to be there's a lot you don't know about him."

"True, but so far I like what I see."

"Seen him shirtless yet?"

"Mercedes!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hey look, writer's block stopped kicking my butt. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I know I promised Thanksgiving fluff, but that's apparently going to be next chapter. I know this is a little shorter than normal, but that means you should get another chapter sooner. That kind of evens out, right? I hope you guys aren't too mad at me, and I'm going to have **_**so**_** much fun writing the wedding. More Meet the Warblers soon too. Maybe even tonight, I'm having such a good writing day. But that's a big maybe. I have work-stuff to do too :(**

**Songs used/mentioned:**

_'Sway'_ by Michael Bublé (mentioned)

**Also, I've never written Sue Sylvester for an extended period of time, so I hope I did okay. Let me know.**

**Reviews are Love. And the perfect cure to writer's block. Even if they're mean.**


	12. Thanksgiving

**A/N: I am so sorry that it has been almost 90 days since this fic last saw the light of day. I have been extremely busy, and I did take some time off to enjoy the holidays. So, Thanksgiving stories and some fluff, but I do have to warn for a homophobic slur in here. Just one. And as for the last scene: Back when I started this fic, Season 2 wasn't even over. So, I stay loyal to my canon, despite later changes revealed on Glee. So, Blaine's brother's name (and the rest of his family) is consistent with Meet the Warblers. K, just wanted to make sure you would remember that. Read on.**

* * *

><p>Out of the list he had dictated to Blaine, musical rehearsals were by far the most stressful. Burt and Carole had spent the last weekend cake shopping and had finally picked a small, well-decorated vanilla cake which coordinated perfectly with the color scheme and would look great in the reception hall. The rehearsal dinner had been planned for the night before the wedding at a smaller venue, but considering only a few people needed to be there, he could make it work. The flowers would be delivered the morning of the wedding, he had to pick up the printed announcements and programs after school, and Carole had picked out the favors with him while his father was watching the Deadliest Catch. Everything was falling into place.<p>

"What about Carole's more religious friends?" Rachel's shrieking broke into his musing as he flipped through his wedding binder. "I'm sure they wouldn't approve."

"My mom has religious friends?" Finn asked to deaf ears.

"If they're truly religious, they won't even know what that word _means_," Quinn argued. "I had to Google it myself, and as the most religious person in the room, I have no problem with the reference as long as the foul substance isn't forced down my own throat."

"I can't even remember what they're arguing about anymore," Kurt muttered to himself as he stood up to intervene.

"Rachel wants to replace the word 'patron' in _Marry You_ with... something that I can't remember anymore," Sam whispered helpfully.

"Rachel, stop it! I don't usually appreciate your suggestions, but they're especially unhelpful today! The word 'patron' is completely appropriate and I assure you that it will bother absolutely no one on the guest list. We are using patron, I like Mike's additions to the choreography, and Tina was right when she said free-styling would be best for the bride and groom, because they'll be stressed out enough that choreography will be the last thing on their minds. Now, _sit down_!" Kurt said finally, not yelling because he knew it would upset Finn but wanting to. Everyone could tell that he had snapped though. "I think we should reconvene tomorrow to practice more, _not argue_, and then on Thursday I have booked up half an hour to practice in the actual church where we will perform, so we can better block our movements. Dismissed."

The Cheerio in Kurt delighted as everyone but a teary Rachel got up and left as per his instructions. Sometimes it was nice to be the leader of the room.

"Go easy on her," Finn mumbled, brushing by Kurt as he left. Kurt sighed.

"Rachel, I'm sorry. It's been a long week, and the wedding's been so stressful." That was not a true lie, just a lie of omission. Yes, the wedding was stressing him out, but the retaliation from the jocks for the fact that he had removed a player who was apparently good at his job right before playoffs was the other half of the reason. Nothing was as bad as having Karofsky around, but the others avenging their right guard were certainly getting on his nerves.

"I know. I just wish you were happy." It was possibly the sweetest thing Rachel had said to him, ignoring the fact that all her sentences started with 'I'. "We were all so worried about you, when Karofsky was around. You were apathetic, losing weight that you don't have to lose, you didn't even care when I suggested that I sing in _Marry You_ instead of you."

"It was a good suggestion," Kurt muttered off-handedly.

"We all wanted to help you, we just didn't know how to."

"The Glee girls with boyfriends meeting?" Kurt asked, remembering that Rachel and Mercedes had been the ones who called his father.

"My idea. Quinn was supposed to talk to Sam, but she didn't because she claimed and still claims that they technically aren't dating, Tina talked to Mike, Brittany talked to Artie, and I talked to Finn." Rachel sighed. "I tried," she said under her breath.

"Finn refused, didn't he?" Kurt asked, knowing what the answer would be but wanted to hear it anyway.

"I couldn't convince him. He was being an idiot and acting like he cared more about his popularity than you, and he... yes, he refused. I just wish that Karofsky going away had solved all of your problems, Kurt." Kurt sighed again. No matter what she did, when Rachel go that earnest I-really-care look, he couldn't stay mad at her. It was just unfair.

"For the most part, it did, Rachel. Don't worry about me. If you're going to worry about something, worry about the fact that you're the only girl who doesn't have a dress yet. Only you could spend an entire day in Columbus the bossiest and most fashion-forward bunch of girls I have ever met and _still_ not have a dress for your boyfriend's mothers wedding," Kurt tried to say it gently rather than accusatively.

"I'm serious, Kurt." Rachel completely ignored what he had said only as she could, with self-centered ease. "You've... lost weight, you look tired, you weren't even excited about the wedding for a while. I-I don't know what you were going through... but I'm, uh, I'm glad you're okay."

Kurt sighed, and smiled at Rachel. She really did have her moments, even if she stumbled and stuttered her way through them. "Thank you, Rachel."

"So, I was thinking about Sectionals-"

"I have to pick up some printing," he said quickly, practically running out of the choir room, and straight into the trajectory of a slushie.

"We've been waiting for you, _faggot_," a hissed voice said, shoving him so he almost fell in the pile of slushie. Past the laughing jocks walking by, he could dimly hear Rachel doing vocal exercises in the choir room with poor Brad.

Just the way to end his _perfect _day. Twenty-four hours until Thanksgiving break had been his mantra all the way through the week, and he continued to mentally chant that as he headed for the bathroom half-blind.

He wiped the slushie for his face as best he could with a damp, warm paper towel, hating the way the blue had already died his oh-so-pale skin. At least they had aimed to ruin his clothes and there were only a few spare bits of ice in his hair that he could pick out. His shirt was soaked beyond repair, and he pulled it off so that the fluid wouldn't seep, not looking at himself in the mirror as he wiped off his chest. He wrung out his thoroughly-ruined shirt, slipping it back on so he could grab his spare clothes out of his locker.

Kurt opened his locker with practiced, automatic ease, ignoring the slurs spray-painted on it with the same ease. Of course his spare clothes were gone, the scratches on the back of his lock clearly indicating that they had picked it, and poorly at that. Resigning himself to being a smurf for a little while longer, he swore repeatedly at whatever was above and thanked physics for the fact that only his face, shirt, and forearms were blue. He was only half-smurf. He really needed that coffee now.

* * *

><p>"Hey there, Eytukan," Blaine said cheerily as Kurt approached, both of them ignoring the stares Kurt was getting for being half blue. "Sorry, only male avatar I could think of," he explained at Kurt's glare.<p>

"Very funny." Kurt sat down, chugged probably half the coffee Blaine had gotten him in one gulp, and continued to glare.

"What happened?" Blaine asked, gesturing wildly at his blue area.

"A few jocks were not very happy that I took out a star player just before playoffs." Kurt shrugged. "Nothing I can't handle."

"How bad is it?" Kurt had said nothing about retaliation before.

"_Nothing I can't handle_," Kurt repeated. "Rachel's being a royal pain in my ass," he said, changing the subject rather obviously.

"How so?" Blaine accepted the subject change with grace, knowing Kurt well enough by now to know that he would talk about whatever was happening at his school only when he was ready.

"She still doesn't have a dress the week before the wedding, and she rejects any changes to the musical number because most of it was originally her idea, and she's been harping at us about Sectionals even though we have no time to plan for that while the wedding's going on, and Finn's too busy being sophomoric about me and the jocks to control her!"

Blaine patiently waited for Kurt to finish his rant, sipping his coffee. "What's going on with Finn?"

"He cares more about his position on the totem pole than he does about me!" Kurt snapped, then sighed, his shoulders slumping as all the anger seeped out of his posture. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Blaine said gently, placing his hand over Kurt's. "That's what I'm here for."

"He's being a complete moron," Kurt said softly, twining his fingers with Blaine's and staring at the table as he spoke. "The least he could do is control his girlfriend if he's not even going to stand up for me against the other morons."

"Does this have something to do with what happened in the locker room?" Blaine asked, and he realized his faux pas when Kurt's head snapped up, his eyes wide. "No! No, no, no, I mean with Sam punching Karofsky and getting a black eye and everything," Blaine quickly corrected himself, wincing at how tactless that was.

"Since you only got my angry rant and not the whole story, you don't know that the first people to talk to Karofsky were Mike and Artie, who had been coerced by Tina and Brittany respectively. Sam only stepped in, not having been coerced by Quinn as Rachel planned because they're not technically dating, when Karofsky pushed Mike into Artie. Finn, having been asked by Rachel, flat out refused to help at all, and was thus out on the field when all of this happened. He didn't care enough to help," Kurt whispered out the ending, probably trying not to get emotional in the middle of the Lima Bean. He looked up from the table when Blaine squeezed his hand.

"Hey, it's okay," Blaine said softly. "Just because your soon-to-be step-brother is an ass, doesn't mean you should cry. This is his problem, not yours, and I absolutely believe that Rachel will make it hers too." Kurt giggled softly at that.

"Thank you," Kurt said quietly. "I don't even care that he didn't say anything to Karofsky, I just wish he'd do something _now_. There isn't even as much potential for backlash."

"Kurt," Blaine began firmly, "what's going on?" For a moment, he mentally thought how silly he must look holding hands with someone who looked like a smurf from the waist up.

"I really mean it when I say nothing, Blaine." Kurt held Blaine's gaze, which didn't help Blaine determine if he was lying or not. "This is the least the bullying has been since I started high school. A few slushies and some clothes in the dumpster with no Karofsky around to haunt me is absolutely nothing, comparatively. Which is why it hurts even more that Finn is refusing to stand up for me. He's done so against much worse than this." Kurt sighed, shaking his head and withdrawing his hand. "He's an idiot."

"We already knew that," Blaine said, taking his hand off the table.

"I considered transferring to Dalton for a while there, you know," Kurt commented offhandedly, his attempt at a subtle subject change.

"I know," Blaine replied, confused when Kurt looked up at him in shock. "Your dad told me," he explained, just then remembering that Kurt hadn't. "Why didn't you?"

"Well, for some people that don't own giant mansions, Dalton tuition is kind of expensive," Kurt teased.

"Must you perpetually mock me for my wealth?" Blaine asked with a dramatic sigh. "But yeah, I understand that. It's kind of ridiculous how much Dalton costs, I'm sure ninety percent of that goes straight to the diocese and has nothing to do with the actual school."

"Diocese?" Kurt asked.

"The Diocese of Columbus, yeah," Blaine replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "Catholic school, remember?" Blaine reminded at Kurt's confused look.

"Oh, I didn't know that."

"Most 'academies' tend to be religious." Blaine shrugged. "The religious aspect at Dalton isn't horrible, but I'm willing to bet a lot of our tuition goes straight to the diocese."

"Corruption at it's best," Kurt said, raising his cup in a mock-toast and rolling his eyes.

"Not quite corruption, but..." Blaine trailed off, letting the topic slide. He knew what Kurt thought of religion and churches. "There are a lot of scholarship opportunities at Dalton, though. Academic, musical... the Warblers pay for ringers all the time."

"Of course they do," Kurt said with a little smirk, another slight Blaine would let slide. "Do they pay for you?"

"I don't think I qualify as a ringer, Kurt," Blaine said with a laugh. "We always face Vocal Adrenaline in Sectionals and get absolutely _destroyed_. It's completely luck of the draw that we're going to win Sectionals this year." Blaine smirked.

"Only in your dreams, Anderson."

"Says the one who just said the New Directions haven't rehearsed for Sectionals. That's all we've been doing since we started school. Practice makes perfect, Kurt."

"Yes, but doing a perfect side-step isn't going to win you any trophies around here, Blaine. I don't care how amazing your voice is, you're too formal to be performers."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Blaine said, running a hand through his hair, a bad habit. "I swear to God, I'm going to shovel that gavel down Wes' frickin' throat if he doesn't loosen up." Blaine shook his head. "I believe the original point of this conversation was to say I'm sure the Warblers would pay for you, if the idea ever crosses your mind again."

"As sweet as it is that you think I could be a ringer, I don't need to go to Dalton now. Life at McKinley is as close to perfect as it's ever going to get." Just as Blaine was about to comment how being bullied less did not equal perfection and Kurt shouldn't settle for life at McKinley, Kurt's phone buzzed. "And there's the lovely bride to be, asking where her announcements and programs are. I should go; the closer the wedding gets, the more intolerable she becomes," Kurt explained as he stood up. He leaned over quickly to give Blaine a hug and then was gone.

* * *

><p>"Where have you been?" Carole asked when he walked into the house, not demanding, just curious.<p>

"I was having coffee with Blaine, but don't worry, I didn't forget to pick up the announcements and programs," Kurt said, placing the two boxes on the counter.

"So, spending more time with this mysterious Blaine guy?" Carole asked with a teasing twinkle in her eye.

"_Carole_, you're as bad as Mercedes," Kurt complained, but Carole just smiled.

"Don't think I didn't notice his name on the guest list when you and your father were arguing about including your relatives." If it hadn't been so close to Carole's wedding, he would have glared at her.

"You told me to invite him," Kurt defended, but his facial muscles betrayed him. He couldn't help but smile; Carole just shook her head and laughed.

"I know I did, and I'm glad you did. You obviously like him a lot." Kurt blushed at that, but Carole just smiled.

"I think these look really good," Kurt said, trying to change the subject by handing Carole one of each from the boxes, but Carole didn't even look at them before setting them aside and patting the seat next to her on the couch.

"Don't tell Finn this, because you know I love my son, his miscreant best friend, and all the trouble they get into together dearly, but I have always wanted someone to talk boys and fashion shows with," Carole said.

"Well, that's what I'm here for," Kurt said, picking the program and announcement back up to try to show them to Carole.

"Oh, would you stop that? You're worrying too much. Almost everything's done, you've pulled off a miracle, and the wedding's going to be phenomenal," Carole said in that motherly voice that always made him want to listen to her. "You know I do consider you as my second son." Before Kurt could say anything, Carole smiled and added, "I wouldn't have let you give me that makeover if I didn't."

"You needed it," Kurt replied. "Badly." Carole was fabulous and beautiful with the right haircut and some new clothes. Carole chuckled, and went for his hair at that one. "_Carole_!"

"I know, I know, don't touch the hair," she said with a laugh. "And when you become a parent, taking care of your children kind of takes precedence over taking care of yourself, which someday, when you find some amazing man who's talented enough to follow you wherever your big dreams take you, you will know first-hand. At least, I hope you will," Carole said, giving him a hug.

"Maybe," was all Kurt said, not thinking about that too soon. He wasn't sure how he felt about children.

"I'm sure you will," Carole said, mistakenly assuming he doubted he would find a talented husband. "I've been lucky enough to find two." Carole was smiling like crazy, and Kurt definitely wanted to have what she and his dad had someday.

"Baby steps, Carole. First I have to get through high school." Carole chuckled at that.

"It's a horrible trial we all have to face," she agreed, "tougher for some of us than others." She stood up, stretching. "All right, I think you've done enough for the bride today. Your father and I are going out for dinner tonight, so no girls for Finn and no boys for you," she said firmly, but then smiled. "Well, maybe Blaine."

"Carole!" he protested, but this was the kind of family teasing he had been expecting.

"Oh shush. Go do your homework, and make sure you and Finn both get to bed on time." Kurt stood up to follow her orders before he realized that they were orders. Yes, he would have done so anyway, but he had never had a parent-figure that bossed him around. His dad trusted him enough to assume Kurt would take care of both of them, so Kurt made his own bedtimes and took care of both their diets. The feeling was new and rather odd, but not entirely bad. For now, he realized, thinking of the arguments Mercedes had with her parents.

"Have fun at dinner," Kurt said as he headed for the basement, not able to bring himself to return the sentiment of considering Carole his mother. He didn't, not yet.

"We will," Carole replied as the door closed behind him.

* * *

><p>"I hate everything," Blaine declared when Kurt called him after the dinner he had made for him and Finn, which Finn of course had taken up to the study he stayed in while he was stuck at Kurt's house (which had been more and more lately), his new thing being completely avoiding Kurt.<p>

"Hello to you too, sir. I certainly hope you don't hate me," Kurt replied, doing his best Audrey Hepburn as Eliza Doolittle impression and making Blaine chuckle.

"No, of course not. I'm just so... frustrated!" Blaine practically growled, and Kurt could hear air escape from his comforter as he flopped back... and the subsequent _thunk_ of his head hitting his headboard. "Ow," came Blaine's voice a few seconds later.

"You all right over there?" A mumble was Kurt's only answer, but he decided to take that as an affirmative. "What has you so riled up? or do I not want to know?" Kurt teased automatically.

"Kurt!" Blaine pretended to be offended, but he was laughing.

"If only I could tell you, but it has to do with the whooping your club is going to get at Sectionals, and I would break our solemn show choir Don't Ask, Don't Tell," Blaine said, but his heart wasn't in the teasing.

"Ah, so it's about Glee?" Kurt asked, and Blaine chuckled.

"I don't think I've ever heard anyone but you call it that, but yes. It does involve the Warblers and I can't tell you about it. We would be breaking our solemn gentleman's agreement, and I would pay for it. More likely: Wes would kill me and sell my body on the black market to pay for sheet music." Blaine sighed. "Yet, somehow, you've managed to make me feel better. How do you do that?"

"Magic," Kurt replied dryly, making Blaine laugh some more.

"How did Carole like... whatever it was you were in charge of picking up?" he asked, in one of his usual clumsy attempts to be interested in Kurt's obsession with Carole's wedding.

"She didn't even look at that," Kurt said with a sigh of his own. "She got distracted."

"Your dad interrupt your wedding mania with his bride again?" Blaine asked, his tone amused.

"Something like that." Kurt looked down at the homework he was supposed to be doing and groaned.

"What's up?"

"I could do this English essay in my sleep," Kurt complained. Compare and contrast the rhetorical strategies of two reviews of Frankenstein in a five-paragraph essay? Seriously?

"I'm sure you would be much more challenged at Dalton," Blaine tempted, making Kurt sigh again.

"Weren't we literally discussing this earlier?" Kurt asked. "Blaine, I'm happy at McKinley."

"Kurt, I was just kidding," Blaine said, and he sounded hesitant. "Is something more wrong?"

"No, sorry, it's been a long week, you know? I should work on my English homework. I'll talk to you soon?"

"Of course. Bye, Kurt," Blaine said as usual, but he still sounded concerned.

"Bye, Blaine," was all Kurt said in reply. Blaine's concern was his own problem.

* * *

><p>Kurt had survived until Thanksgiving. Earlier in the year, that was a feat he hadn't been sure he was going to accomplish, but he had lived through another school day without throttling Rachel, gone twenty-four hours without talking to Blaine for the first time since they'd met, and was now happily preparing Thanksgiving dinner with Carole as Finn and Burt sat in the living room watching football. They were expecting the entire Berry clan later, but other than them, Thanksgiving was going to be a quiet, family affair. Their first, as a matter of fact.<p>

"I realized I haven't said it yet," Carole began after almost an hour of working in a completely comfortable silence, disregarding requests for various tools and ingredients. "Happy Thanksgiving, sweetie."

"Happy Thanksgiving, Carole." Kurt was more than thrilled to have Carole over for Thanksgiving dinner. It was Finn that he was worried about. He had somehow managed to go from the front door to the living room in the two seconds Kurt had been rummaging through the fridge. Kurt would have been impressed with Finn's swift stealth if he hadn't been so annoyed that Finn was still avoiding him, and successfully at that.

"You seem down, are you all right?" Carole asked, and Kurt really didn't want to get into the fact that the reason he was so upset was the son she loved so very much.

"I'm fine. Just tired," Kurt lied, and apparently his lying skills had returned to normal from the ridiculous week of not getting away with anything that he'd had. Either that, or Carole didn't know him well enough to be able to tell. Either way, she believed him.

His phone buzzed, and he had to wash his hands before he pulled out his iPhone (almost dropping it, he probably should have dried his hands a little better), and unlocked it to read the text.

From: Blaine  
><strong>'Happy Thanksgiving. I know you're mad at me, or upset, or whatever, and you don't have to tell me why, but I just wanted to let you know that I am really thankful that I met you.'<strong>

Kurt's heart melted. Blaine had spent the last day thinking Kurt was angry with him, but still sent him the sweetest text ever. Why did he have to be so nice? It made Kurt feel like a bad person.

"I'm guessing that's Blaine, judging by your expression." Kurt ignored Carole's comment and tried to think of something to say in return.

To: Blaine  
><em>'Happy Thanksgiving to you, too. I'm definitely not mad at you, and the only thing that really has me upset is Finn, but it's a holiday, and I don't care anymore. I'm really glad I met you, Blaine. To be honest, you may have saved my sanity... maybe even my life. So, thank you<em>.'

From: Blaine  
><strong>'Oh, so you do love me :)'<strong>

Kurt giggled, ignoring the raised eyebrows he was getting from his almost-step-mother, who was now cooking Thanksgiving dinner all by herself. Kurt returned to their preparations, sending off a quick reply before pocketing his phone and ignoring the little butterflies in his stomach that always appeared when Blaine was being adorably dapper. "Sorry, Carole."

To: Blaine  
><em>'Sometimes. But yes, right now, I am very happy to know you<em>.'

"No, no. You have every right to ignore your step-mom and text the guy you like. You _are _a teenager, sweetie."

Kurt smiled. "I'll helped in a second," he replied, pulling his phone back out. Then he froze, unused to the quick, accurate parental observations. "How did you know that I was texting Blaine?" Carole laughed in reply.

"A mother always knows," she said mysteriously. "And just because your father tends to be a little oblivious, doesn't mean your emotions aren't usually written all over your face." Kurt blushed at that. Did she really find him that easy to read? "Not so much when you're upset, maybe, but definitely when you're happy. And Blaine obviously makes you very happy."

From: Blaine  
><strong>'Well, I'm very happy to know you as well, even if you are a little bit of a pain in my butt sometimes, Hummel.'<strong>

"He really does," Kurt admitted after he had read Blaine's reply.

"Good," Carole said approvingly as Kurt tried to think of a proper reply to Blaine's last text. "You deserve someone who makes you happy." Carole,Kurt had decided, was a goddess in the kitchen, multi-tasking like crazy as Kurt texted Blaine in reply, feeling guilty.

To: Blaine  
><em>'You're a bit of pain in my butt too, but you're possibly the nicest person I've ever met, and the best at putting up with me. I should go, I'm supposed to be helping Carole make dinner. Happy Thanksgiving.'<em>

From: Blaine  
><strong>'You said that already. Now go help your mother. Happy Thanksgiving.'<strong>

"All right, ready to help," Kurt promised, pocketing his phone and being handed a task by Carole. They cooked in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the sound of chatting, groans, and sports commentators from inside the living room, until...

"Hey, mom, can you bring me a soda?" Finn called from the living room, and Kurt rolled his eyes. The boy was almost seventeen and he still couldn't be bothered to tear himself away from a football game for two minutes to get his own soda and not disrupt what his mother is doing, even when she's cooking for him!

"Kurt, sweetie, would you mind terribly?" Carole asked him, her hands covered in butter. "He likes the Mountain Dew, it's in the fridge." Kurt sighed but smiled at his almost step-mother, pouring Finn a cup of Mountain Dew (he didn't trust the clumsy lummox with a glass), and bringing it into the man cave Burt and Finn had made in the living room, being hissed at as he walked in front of the TV.

Finn stared at the Mountain Dew in his hand uncomprehendingly. "I asked Mom."

"You got me," Kurt replied, resisting the urge to slap Finn. Did he have to be ridiculous about everything? Kurt was doing him a favor!

"Thanks," Finn muttered, grabbing the cup without touching Kurt's skin in any way, and Kurt didn't ignore the fact that the only reason he was doing it was probably the glare he was getting from Burt. Kurt resisted the urge to huff and gave into the urge to flounce off.

"Kurt, Carole," Burt called a few minutes later. "Do you think you two could nip over to the store and get us some more beer? We're all out."

"There's some more in the-" Kurt tried to argue, knowing they had plenty of beer. Since Burt allowed Finn to have some on important game days (which today apparently qualified as), they had bought plenty.

"_Kurt_," Burt said firmly. "I would really appreciate if _both of you _would go to store and get us more beer." Carole smiled to herself, and gestured to the door with a freshly-de-buttered thumb.

* * *

><p>Blaine smiled at his little text exchange with Kurt, pocketing his phone and facing his best friend, who had been staring at him throughout the conversation with raised eyebrow. "May I help you?" Blaine asked, not annoyed in the slightest.<p>

"Just wondering how you're so in denial that you can't even see how he makes you smile like a love struck idiot," Charlie commented, looking perfectly relaxed splayed out on Blaine's bed. "Thanks for inviting me to Thanksgiving again."

"No problem. I'm sure my parents will remember my existence at some point." Charlie raised an eyebrow at Blaine's bitter tone, and Blaine shook his head.

"Sorry. I'm fine." Apparently, Blaine meant what he said, because Charlie accepted that, and he _always_ knew when something was up with Blaine.

"We should just chill out and have pizza," Charlie commented. "This whole holiday is a scam anyway. Thanksgiving is supposed to be a celebration of our first big meal with the Native Americans, but in reality we ended up being tricked by, slaughtering, and generally having horrible relations with them. So, I vote we hold a Thanksgiving boycott." Blaine cracked up. The comment was so Charlie, and it was exactly what he needed.

"Thanksgiving is about saying what you're thankful for," Blaine argued. "Back then, the Pilgrims were thankful that the Native Americans had pitched in and kept them alive, or else they wouldn't have survived and America probably would have never been colonized by the British."

"Well, you're thankful for Kurt, and I'm thankful that I have something to tool on your for, especially something boy-related. There. Bases covered. Order pizza."

Blaine used the Domino's app to order some delivery from the restaurant on North State Street/Route 3. Then the most blood-curdling noise of all time swept through his house.

"Was that... the garage door?" Charlie asked, and he sounded as scared as Blaine felt.

"Yes."

"Any chance that's Cooper coming home?"

"No."

"Your mom coming to whisk you away to New York?"

"My dad has custody."

"Step-mom home from Los Angeles?"

"Not a chance. She wouldn't want to run into him."

"_Damn_."

Both boys slunk downstairs just in time to see Michael Anderson walk through the door. Charlie always said that he had never figured out how this man created Blaine and Everett (his exact words were a little more... suggestive, but that was the general gist). Blaine could see his point. Michael Anderson had the dark hair Blaine and Everett had and the blue eyes that were the only distinguishing feature between his sons (besides a few inches in height), but there was nothing particularly remarkable about his face. He was a strung-up business man, so he looked thin, but tall, and there were always deep black circles underneath his eyes, but Blaine knew how strong he was, and how frightening he could be when he wanted to.

"Blaine, where is my wife?" Blaine's mouth tightened. Everett was always 'Son,' Lila 'Daughter'. His father had never called him by anything but his name, and had never called Ev or Lils by their proper names. It was one of the few distinctions that really bothered him.

"Los Angeles, still." Blaine resisted the urge to call him 'Michael.' He knew how well that went over.

"Hey Mr. A," Charlie said casually, wrapping an arm around Blaine's shoulder. Charlie loved to antagonize his father.

"Shields," his dad said coldly. "I don't recall inviting you to this family celebration." Blaine snorted, and his father glared at him. Charlie squeezed his shoulder.

"Blainers did, of course. We just ordered pizza."

"Why is there no turkey?" his dad asked coldly.

"You'd have to ask your wife," Blaine said before he could help it.

"You will _not_ disrespect me as such," his dad said, standing to his full height (at last six inches taller than Blaine. Why did he have to be so short?) and trying to look over Blaine. "You have already disrespected this sacred family tradition by inviting a... _friend_, and I will not have you speaking to me in that tone."

Michael Anderson stalked into the dining room, and Charlie and Blaine both rolled their eyes, Charlie squeezing Blaine's shoulder again.

"You really have to act like my boyfriend when you're here?" Blaine asked, not particularly caring about the arm around his shoulder, but knowing that it wasn't improving his father's mood.

"It's fun," Charlie said, shrugging. "Besides, it's not like he's going to be nice anyway." Blaine sighed, and Charlie kissed the side of his head. "Happy Thanksgiving, goofball."

"Happy Thanksgiving, moron."

* * *

><p>"I'm not one to lecture, Finn, but this has been going on for too long," Burt said finally in the awkward silence left when Kurt and Mom had headed for the store to get beer they didn't really need. Finn wasn't the brightest tool in the shed, but even he knew they had plenty of beer. "First you didn't help Kurt out when there were... people," Burt said through gritted teeth, "threatening his life, and now you're treating him like they do, like dirt under their shoes."<p>

"I just thought my mom was bringing me my soda," Finn said, but he knew Burt wouldn't believe it. It wasn't that he minded Kurt bringing him his soda, but he didn't want to be Kurt's _brother_. He wasn't ready for that yet, and he knew what everyone at school would say.

"I understand the importance of who brings you your cup of Mountain Dew," so _that's_ where Kurt had gotten the sarcasm from, "but I don't think that's really the issue here is it, Finn?"

"No," Finn muttered, not meeting Burt's eyes.

"Finn, I'm going to give you one piece of advice, and then we'll never have to talk about this again. Sometimes you don't like the hand life has dealt you, and when teenagers don't, they become obnoxious belligerent idiots. So, _man up_. Kurt's going to be your little brother soon, you're responsible for him. I don't care if you like it, I don't care that you never wanted this, I don't care that you didn't have a choice in this. You and Kurt are brothers now, and that's a bond that's going to last a lot longer than whichever girl you're dating right now. Kurt's put together an entire wedding to show his support for Carole and I. What have you done?"

Finn didn't answer. He didn't have a reply. The truth was, he kind of _had_ treated Kurt like crap lately, and it wasn't exactly like Kurt was happy about this. Yeah, he had started it by introducing them, but this totally didn't even go with his original plan, and judging by the way he's been treating Finn, he's _long_ over that. Over him. He and Kurt were stuck in the same spot, but Kurt had a crap ton else to deal with, and he had _still_ been the better son lately.

"I haven't done much," Finn answered honestly as Carole and Kurt walked back through the door with a case of beer that would end up in the corner of Kurt's basement for a while, "but I know what I'm going to do."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: The first time I watched 'Furt' (the time I transcribe the scenes for this fic will be about the 400000th) I immediately wondered who had given Finn the kick in the pants, so I decided that in this fic it would be Burt, because Burt will always speak up for his son. We know nothing about Blaine's mysterious dad, so I just kind of painted him as he is in my head, which is seemingly normal to other people but awful to his second son. So, I hope you guys liked, and I'm sorry for the long wait.**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_Marry You_' by Bruno Mars (mentioned)

**Reviews are Love. Even though I'm a crappy updater and I don't deserve them.**


	13. Just the Way You Are

The Hummel household was absolute madness the day of the wedding, but thankfully the entire Glee club was chipping in to make sure the day went smoothly. Carole had been taken to the church earlier by Rachel, and the ladies were helping her prepare and dress there. Kurt had made sure his dad was in his tux and looked fine (insisting that _under no circumstances_ would he be wearing his baseball cap to or during his wedding), and then Puck had driven him to the church, where all the guys already were. Kurt made a mental note to offer to fix up Puck's truck, considering how nice he had been lately, and how helpful he was being (plus, the truck was in absolutely horrific shape and it was an insult to Kurt's eyes).

Kurt, already dressed and the only boy who could be trusted to be in his suit outside of the church without spilling anything on it, was checking up on a few last minutes details (the delivery of the flowers and cake, as well as making sure the reception would be set up by the time they arrived). Thankfully, everything was going smoothly.

The only problem was, not-so-shockingly, Finn, who seemed determined to be a nuisance. First he had refused to drive Burt there, forcing Puck to take that responsibility, and Finn was one of the first at the church. He didn't help Kurt with any of the details, even when Kurt had swallowed his pride and asked. Worse, he had gone from completely ignoring Kurt to staring at him constantly, and it was both irritating and unsettling.

By the time the Glee club was ready to perform _Marry You_, Kurt needed a spa day and something to calm his jitters. It wasn't his wedding, but it was his responsibility, and he was terribly nervous. The band was all set up, the crowd was looking around in confusion as the music started, and Finn was the first to enter. Hopefully he was reliable enough to at least do _this_ right.

_It's a beautiful night,  
><em>_We're looking for something dumb to do.  
><em>_Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you._

Finn had walked (Kurt had made him make a promise not to attempt dancing and injure any teammates, wedding guests, or himself) halfway down the aisle. Rachel was the next to enter, and despite how long she had taken to pick a dress, she looked radiant in her dress, which was v-neck, but not inappropriate, and longer than most of the skirts she wore.

_Is it the look in your eyes,  
><em>_Or is it this dancing juice?  
><em>_Who cares baby, I think I wanna marry you._

Rachel was allowed to dance, and though Kurt was wary about the lift, Rachel was light enough and Finn was big enough that he doubted it could lead to any injury, and it went off without a hitch, Finn carrying Rachel off to make room for Quinn and Sam to enter, Quinn singing first. They did a small choreographed dance in the middle of the aisle, which the next pair would join, and on the second part of their verse Kurt and Mercedes joined them on the aisle. The rest would enter the room on the chorus.

_Well I know this little chapel  
><em>_On the boulevard we can go,  
><em>_No one will know,  
><em>_Come on girl._

_Who cares if we're trashed  
><em>_Got a pocket full of cash we can blow,  
><em>_Shots of patron,  
><em>_And it's on girl._

Brittany, pushing Artie, who had streamers, entered on the chorus, followed by Puck and Santana. Puck ended up pushing Artie up the aisle as the two ladies danced with Artie's streamers.

_Don't say no, no, no, no, no;  
><em>_Just say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah;  
><em>_And we'll go, go, go, go, go.  
><em>_If you're ready, like I'm ready._

Tina and Mike, the best dancers, were the last to enter, and also the two allowed the most flair with their choreography, though Kurt was nervous about their lift too. Mike was a lot smaller than Finn, but it worked out.

_Cause it's a beautiful night,  
><em>_We're looking for something dumb to do.  
><em>_Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you._

Everyone had circled around and rejoined the dance at this point, the twelve of them dancing up the aisle together, Finn and Kurt in the front.

_Is it the look in your eyes,  
><em>_Or is it this dancing juice?  
><em>_Who cares baby, I think I wanna marry you._

The Glee club danced at the front of the church as Burt danced up the aisle. His eyes were shifting among the audience members, and he looked uncomfortable. Kurt had given him a few pointers as to dancing (he had no idea how to freestyle), but he still looked a little bit silly, and some of the guests were laughing. He would _not_ be happy about that later. For right now, he was willing to go along with whatever because he wanted his second wedding to be as memorable as his first, and that's what Kurt was working towards.

_Just say I do,  
><em>_Tell me right now baby,  
><em>_Tell me right now baby, baby_

Burt finally reached the front and held out his arms for Carole to come down the aisle. She looked positively _radiant_, and extremely happy. She was just walking to the tempo because she was limited by her dress as far as dancing went. Once she reached halfway, Burt walked back to her, and they headed up together towards the front, walking to the tempo. Potential disaster avoided.

_Just say I do...  
><em>_It's a beautiful night,  
><em>_We're looking for something dumb to do.  
><em>_Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you._

_Is it the look in your eyes,  
><em>_Or is it this dancing juice?  
><em>_Who cares baby, I think I wanna marry you._

Carole placed a hand on Burt's chest with a smile as the number ended, and the priest approached the couple, also smiling. Everyone in the audience had enjoyed the opening number, giving them a standing ovation, and Kurt was almost disappointed that there was only going to be one more during the reception.

Carole stood to the right of the priest, Finn standing behind her, and Kurt stood behind Burt, waiting for the priest to speak (shortly). The Glee club was arranged pretty randomly on either side. Rachel was directly behind Finn, so were Mike and Sam. Mercedes was directly behind Kurt, with Santana, Brittany, and Artie.

"Please, be seated," the priest requested as Finn and Kurt passed off the bouquets they were being handed. "We usually start with a prayer, but a certain young wedding planner who shall remain nameless," Burt turned to Kurt and raised an eyebrow; the countertenor mouthed 'what', acting completely innocent, "was afraid that some in attendance might fall asleep." Finn was snickering, but Kurt didn't turn around to find out why. "So, instead, I'm going to let Burt and Carole tell you in their own words why they've invited you here today."

This was one of those surprises Kurt hadn't told his father about purely because it wouldn't seem as real if Burt had thought about what he was going to say beforehand. Kurt was willing to guess his father had realized this, because he didn't even look at Kurt before beginning to speak, looking instead towards the audience.

"I'm not really known for having a way with words." Burt rubbed his hands together, stalling and searching for the words to say. "Uh... you know, when you're a kid, adults will tell you a lot of things, but one thing they neglect to mention is how... sad life can be." The entire audience looked confused, and even Kurt was feeling that was. Why was his dad talking about this now? This was a happy Glee wedding! "I lost somebody I loved very much," oh no, "but Kurt... he lost his mom, and that killed me." Carole looked sad, and when she looked back at her son, he grimaced. What was his dad doing? "You know, we got by, but, looking back, I-I want to apologize to you Kurt." His dad was talking directly to him. Did they really have to do this _now_? In front of an audience? "What we were living just... wasn't living.

"You know that saying that when God closes a door, He opens a window? Well," Burt was chuckling, but the audience (and his bride) were still looking confused and upset, "sometimes out of nowhere, He'll do you one better and He'll kick a whole wall down." There was some laughter, and Kurt tried to choke a little one out. Why did his dad have to bring up his mom? "He grabbed me by the shoulders, and He... pointed me towards this woman right here, and He said 'there she is. Go _get_ her.' You're everything, Carole." Carole was smiling and tearing up, and even his dad seemed to be a little choked up. "Words... can't describe you, you're everything, and I will love you till the day I die." Finn turned to smile at Rachel, and Kurt was tempted to snap at them for detracting attention from the bride and groom, but let it go. They were happy. If they thought they were going to get married, they're deranged, but they're happy.

"Oh, hey..." Burt chuckled, and Carole sounded completely choked up, her voice scratchy and quiet. "I'm lucky," she announced for the room to hear. "Most women, when they get married, they get one man. I get two." Kurt smiled as she looked to him, still a little teary from the talk about his mom, but when had this wedding become about him? "One of you saved me from my wardrobe, the other one just saved me." Carole was looking at his dad now. "Kurt," oh boy, "_you _are an _amazing _person. I'm not only getting a son, I'm getting a friend." Oh great, now he was tearing up more. "Finn," oh boy... again, "I know you were resistant at first, but I am so _proud_ of you. I have watched you grow into a man." Burt nodded and Finn smiled ruefully. "But I think I'm most proud that you've become a brother to Kurt." A crappy brother, but a brother nonetheless. Finn looked like he had been punched in the stomach, but today was one of the only days Kurt couldn't find it in himself to be vindictive about how unhappy Finn was. He attempted a smile at his new step-brother, which probably wasn't very convincing.

"We are four people becoming a family," Carole finished. Burt took Kurt's hand for a second, before Kurt handed him the ring out of his suit pocket. Carole took Finn's hand, and very stealthily Finn somehow managed to give his mother the ring without even Kurt seeing the flash of silver.

"Okay," the priest said.

"Ohh," was the nervous sound both made at the same time, since the priest was about to start the vows. Kurt aimed to make the ceremony as brief and non-religious as possible.

"Burt, do you take Carole-"

"You bet I do!" Burt announced before the priest could finish his question with a grin, making the audience laugh. It was so typical of his dad. Lawyers, priests... he never had time to hear long-winded people finish talking. The priest looked entertained, not bothered, which was good. Kurt tried to get the most laid-back priest possible, which was pretty easy considering how... obvious he was.

"And do you, Carole, take this man-"

"Oh, yes I do, yes I do," Carole interrupted as well, which was something Kurt hadn't expected, and everyone chuckled. Kurt breathed a sigh of relief as the couple kissed, looking around at the wedding. It had gone perfectly, which only made him nervous about the reception.

* * *

><p>Getting from the wedding to the reception had been as crazy as getting to the wedding, but Kurt oversaw that the guests got on the proper buses, the couple got into the limo, and generally no craziness occurred. There were a ton of people waiting at the reception, those who hadn't come to the rather small ceremony but were more than willing to come for free food. Kurt rolled his eyes as the shuttle arrived at the venue. Most of the Glee club had piled into Artie's dads car, including Finn, leaving Kurt to drive the Navigator to the reception alone. He got that prickling feeling that something was about to go wrong again as he drove.<p>

Mr. Schuester started in on the couple's choice for a first dance, _Sway_ by Michael Buble, as soon as Kurt gave him the go-ahead, seeing most of the guests seated. Puck was the head usher, and he was being wonderfully helpful. Kurt got plenty of hugs from the guys who worked at the garage and noted with pleasure that Burt hadn't managed to get any of their family there.

_When marimba rhythms start to play  
><em>_Dance with me, make me sway  
><em>_Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore  
><em>_Hold me close, sway me more_

_Other dancers may be on the floor  
><em>_Dear, but my eyes will see only you  
><em>_Only you have the magic technique  
><em>_When we sway I go weak_

_When marimba rhythms start to play  
><em>_Dance with me, make me sway  
><em>_Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore  
><em>_Hold me close, sway me more_

_Like a flower bending in the breeze  
><em>_Bend with me, sway with ease  
><em>_When we dance you have a way with me  
><em>_Stay with me, sway with me_

Kurt hadn't been particularly bossy about the choreography for their first dance, and they seemed to be having fun, so he could let his dad's uncertainty slide. They were actually doing a pretty good job, all things considered, but Kurt still tried to direct the dance a little, to no avail. Everyone else was having fun, smiling, dancing, and shimmying along to the beat, cheering and laughing as the couple danced. Mr. Schue was doing a great job with the song. He had managed to put a little bit of flair into his performance even though Kurt had only given him a microphone to work with, but it didn't take away attention from the couple, so Kurt allowed it.

Finn was sitting up at the family table with him, two seats away, and it was the closest he had been all week. Kurt made very sure not to look at him, but he noticed out of the corner of his eyes every time Finn looked at Rachel. Finn looked at him at the end of the song, mouthing something, so Kurt just clapped and smiled at his step-brother. Everyone was applauding and cheering as the happy couple sat down between their two sons.

"And now, I'd like to introduce _one_ of the best men, Finn Hudson," Mr. Schue said from up on the stage, and everyone clapped as the waiter handed Finn some champagne. Kurt braced himself for the disaster that Finn's toast was going to be, considering Finn hadn't let him help at all, patting his dad's shoulder as he sat down.

"Oh, thanks," Finn said with surprise to the waiter. Kurt hadn't planned on letting him have real alcohol, but he wasn't sure he could trick his step-brother. He had spent a lot of time with Puck, he probably knew his liquors. "Hi. Uh, thank you. Best man! Right, uh." He really needed to stop saying 'uh'. "Well, I want to propose a toast to my mom," Finn raised his glass, and the audience followed his gesture, "who is _so_ awesome." Of course Finn had to use a simpleton's word in his toast. Of course. "Uh," _really_? "I mean, somehow, even without one in the house, you taught me what it means to be a man." Kurt knew what kind of man Finn was, so that didn't sound like much of a compliment to him, but Carole smiled at her son.

"In Glee Club, uh, whenever two of us got together, we got a nickname." Was Finn about to give their parents a couple's name? "Rachel and I are Finchel, Rachel and Puck were Puckelberry." Smooth Finnegan. "And today, a new union was formed. Furt!" Oh, Finn _had_ to be kidding. He was coming up with names for he and Kurt? As _brothers_? Oh dear Gaga. "You and me, man, we're brothers from another mother, and quite frankly, no one else has shown me as much as you about what it means to be a man." This was... surprising. Very surprising. Finn was dedicating his toast to making up with him? "And over the past few weeks, I... some stuff as gone down," oh no, "and I haven't manned up like I shoulda. From now on, no matter what it costs me, I got your back." When did Finn become sweet? Kurt's eyes felt a little wet. "'Kay? Even if it means getting a slushie in the face every now and then." Completely not an appropriate topic to bring up at a wedding, but everyone laughed, Kurt included. "You put this entire wedding together by yourself, Kurt," with a little help from the boy you don't know about. "So, as a thank you, I had the Glee club put together a little number in your honor."

Kurt finally understood. Finn had been plotting this recently, and that's why he couldn't bring Burt, and why the Glee club had all been in the same car with the exception of him. They had been making last minute plans to perform a number. Oh boy. "You gotta dance it with me, dude," Finn whispered as he walked up to the table. Kurt tried to protest, but Finn wasn't taking frantically mouthed 'no's for an answer. As soon as Finn had whispered that, the Glee club began in on the accompaniment, and the guys from Glee assembled behind him as he backed away from the family table.

_Oh, her eyes, her eyes  
><em>_Make the stars look like they're not shining  
><em>_Her hair, her hair  
><em>_Falls perfectly without her trying  
><em>_She's so beautiful  
><em>_And I tell her everyday_

They had obviously choreographed it, Finn doing his best with the simple dance steps. He looked between Carole and Rachel as he sang the romantic chorus, and Kurt was both relieved and disappointed Finn wasn't looking at him. Not that he would have thought anything of it, but it was kind of... odd. The girls joined the guys on the dance floor for the bridge of the song.

_Oh you know, you know, you know  
><em>_I'd never ask you to change  
><em>_If perfect's what you're searching for  
><em>_Then just stay the same  
><em>_So don't even bother asking if you look okay  
><em>_'Cause you know I'll say_

On the last line Finn offered him a hand, and when Kurt accepted, Finn pulled him up onto the dance floor. Rachel and Mercedes grabbed his arms when Finn plopped him on the girls' side and went back to his choreography.

_When I see your face  
><em>_There's not a thing that I would change  
><em>_'Cause you're amazing  
><em>_Just the way you are_

Finn pointed across the aisle between the girls and the boys. Rachel started crossing, then stopped, jolting as if something had occurred to her. She ran back and grabbed Kurt, pushing him towards Finn. The jock grabbed Kurt and lead him around in the dance the countertenor had taught him as the Glee club circled around them.

_And when you smile  
><em>_The whole world stops and stares for a while  
><em>_'Cause girl you're amazing  
><em>_Just the way you are_

_The way you are  
><em>_The way you are_

People were getting up and dancing around the tables, and Finn pulled Kurt into a hug, which Kurt happily accepted. Finn, in his own, very odd, and excruciatingly public way, was reaching out to him, and he couldn't say 'no'. They were "brothers from another mother" after all. After the hug the two silently, mutually decided to dance with their parents, Kurt putting in some effort towards choreography with his dad, and Finn absolutely not trying at all.

_Girl, you're amazing  
><em>_Just the way you are_

Most of the couples were dancing behind them, Rachel and Mercedes dancing together as the two outcasts. Guests had gotten up and joined them on the dance floor, and everyone else had clustered around its edges, clearly enjoying the show. Under any other circumstances, Kurt would yell at Finn for messing up his immaculate plans, but this had gone too well for him to care.

_When I see your face  
><em>_There's not a thing that I would change  
><em>_'Cause you're amazing  
><em>_Just the way you are_

Kurt relinquished his dad to the bride, Finn dancing with Rachel and him grabbing Mercedes for the rest of the song. Everything had gone perfectly, even if it hadn't been exactly what he had expected.

_And when you smile  
><em>_The whole world stops and stares for a while  
><em>_'Cause girl you're amazing  
><em>_Just the way you are  
><em>_Yeah_

* * *

><p>"Well, that was a little gay," he teased his new step-brother once the DJ had started playing and some guests were dancing while others ate. Finn had shoveled down his food so fast it was sickening, and Kurt had eaten at a perfectly normal pace, and now they were relaxing near the edge of the stage. Rachel had apparently had some sort of emergency with her heel, and Mercedes (Kurt's unofficial date to the wedding) had gone to the bathroom with super glue from Brittany's purse to help her.<p>

"Shut up," Finn said, but it wasn't mean, or pointed. Just a little annoyed. "I am sorry, dude. About how much of a cruddy friend I've been lately."

"You would be a much better friend if you didn't call me dude," Kurt responded automatically, but Finn ignored it. "It's all right. I know you're under a lot of pressure from all angles, Finn. You just need to work on finding out where your priorities lie."

"With family, dude, always," Finn promised, offering Kurt a fist bump. He rolled his eyes at the plebeian gesture, but accepted with a smile.

"Good," Kurt said approvingly. "And since you're in such a family-oriented, charitable mood..."

"What do you want, dude?" Finn asked, and he sounded suspicious. Kurt couldn't blame him. Phrases such as that were the number two way Rachel started sentences (the number one way was, of course, 'I').

"I need your help diverting your girlfriend," he said honestly. He had thought through his ploy to keep Rachel away from Blaine for as long as possible, and decided that if he could get Finn on board, it would be a lot easier.

"Diverting her from what?" Finn asked, but being as puppy-ish as he was, he no longer sounded suspicious.

"I invited a... friend she might not approve of, he'll be arriving in about ten minutes, and I need your help keeping her away from him at all costs."

"Why would she not approve of him?" Why did he have to ask question?

"He goes to a school that we're competing against at Sectionals, but he's not a rat, and he's not trying to get information out of me. Not like there's any information to get, but still. And we're just _friends_."

"But it is a guy?"

"Yes."

"A guy like you?"

"Meaning?" Kurt asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, he's a guy, and yes, he's gay, but that doesn't mean we can't just be friends. And we are just friends." Finn didn't look entirely convinced, but Kurt didn't care. "Will you help me or not?"

"You're gonna have to point him out to me when he gets here," Finn said, and he sounded resigned. Kurt gave him a quick hug around the shoulders.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

"Hey." Kurt whirled around, hoping desperately that it was Blaine, and was a little disappointed to be met with a smiling Lucas. His father hadn't been extremely happy about having the Cheerio there, but Kurt had only wanted to bring him to the reception, so Burt had caved. Carole _loved_ Lucas, like she loved everyone.

"Hey. Enjoying the wedding?" he asked politely, scanning for Blaine, and Lucas smiled.

"Yep. Nice toast, Finn." They fist-bumped as Kurt continued to search. "Wanna dance, Kurt?"

"What? Oh, yeah, sure." He agreed, a little absentmindedly. He would be able to see more of the hall from the dance floor anyway. "See you later, Finn." Finn looked suspicious again, and Kurt realized why when he registered that a slow song had just started. He rolled his eyes at his brother. It was just Lucas.

"So, who are you looking for?" Lucas asked as he wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist, _I'll Be_ by Edwin McCain playing in the background.

"I'm not looking for anyone," Kurt denied, and Lucas laughed.

"Right. Because you're not obvious or anything. Invited someone?" he asked, spinning Kurt around with no real technique.

"Yes. You?" he asked once he was facing Lucas again.

"Nope. I do have someone I'd like to be here with, though," Lucas admitted, and Kurt smiled, happy for his friend.

"Are you going to tell me voluntarily, or do I have to make you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, and Lucas chuckled.

"That sounds an awful lot like a threat, Hummel."

"It was."

"I'll tell you, voluntarily, once you tell me who you're looking for."

"His name is Blaine."

"Your boyfriend?"

"No."

"A friend?"

"Yes."

"A friend that you like?"

"Maybe. Now tell me."

"So that means 'yes'." Lucas sighed. "Now I don't want to tell you."

"You have to tell me. I told you." Lucas was silent for a few seconds, and Kurt realized this was one _long_ song.

"You."

"Me what?"

"The person I would like to be here with is you." The music slowed and quieted as Lucas said this, and a few people looked over at them.

"Lucas, I'm sorry, but..." Why did people have to be staring?

"No, I get it. I'm about a year too late?" he asked with a laugh.

"A little less than," Kurt admitted, because _yes_, Lucas was attractive, but he had never thought of the other Cheerio that way.

"It's fine." Lucas sighed. "I see someone in a tux slipping into the room, and he's pretty cute too, so I'm guessing that's Blaine," he said as the song ended, and sure enough, Blaine was smiling and waving at him once Kurt turned around. "Go ahead. I'm good," Lucas said once the next song started to play." Kurt smiled at his friend, but had nothing to say to him, so he headed for Blaine.

"Hey!" Blaine said with a grin, giving him a hug, and Kurt saw Finn mouth 'him?' over Blaine's shoulder. Kurt winked, not able to think of any other way to affirm Finn's guess without letting Blaine knew he was communicating. Finn gave him a thumbs up, and Kurt rolled his eyes. "How are you?" Blaine asked, finally releasing him. "And more importantly, who was the cute guy you were dancing with?"

"Good, and a friend," Kurt said, feeling a little bit guilty.

"You sure you're all right?" Blaine asked, obviously picking up on Kurt's mood.

"I'm fine. And boy do I have a story for you."

Kurt grabbed Blaine the plate he had the kitchen hold for him when Blaine had admitted that he hadn't eaten dinner yet, and told him the story of what had just happened during Finn's ridiculous toast.

"And I missed it?" Blaine said, finished his food and acting thoroughly disappointed as Kurt finished up the story.

"Sadly, yes." Now his eyes were scanning the room for a whole new reason: Rachel.

"Are you looking for someone?" Blaine asked, his eyes following the route Kurt's had just taken.

"Am I that obvious?" Kurt asked, and Blaine grinned.

"Kind of. Let's dance," Blaine said, standing up.

"Um..." Kurt hesitated. _Open Arms_ was playing (so many slow songs!) and Finn and Rachel were right in the middle of the dance floor.

"What? Just because it's a slow song, doesn't mean it has to be awkward," Blaine said with a laugh, and then looked around. "Unless you don't think it would go over well."

"No, it's just... okay, I'll be honest. I'm trying to hide you from Rachel." Blaine laughed, but stopped when he realized Kurt was being completely serious. "Okay, can I ask why?"

"She's crazy, and she had a boyfriend who was the lead singer of our competition last year, Jesse St. James from Vocal Adrenaline-"

"He's an asshole," Blaine said, sounding kind of confused.

"She's dating my brother. She has bad taste in men."

"Didn't you like your step-brother?" Blaine asked, sounding even more confused.

"Not important." Blaine snorted. "What is important is that if she knows we're interacting at all, she'll have a complete and total meltdown and try to kick me out of the New Directions."

"Oh, so she really is crazy," Blaine realized, sitting back down. "All right."

"Sorry."

"It's fine. I already guessed that any sort of interaction with your crazy friends would be... abnormal. This is on the better end of my imagined spectrum."

"What was the worse end?" Kurt asked, curious.

"Incidents with killer sharks and robots and Coach Sylvester." Kurt gave him a look intended to convey his question of 'are you crazy' and Blaine just shrugged. "I have a vivid imagination."

"I see that. How do you think the wedding turned out?"

"Fabulously," Blaine said with a smile. "I was juts about to compliment you on it actually. Everything looks great and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves and, considering you're you, you would probably be having some sort of meltdown if something had gone wrong, so I'm guessing everything's gone pretty smoothly up to this point."

"You make me sound like Rachel," Kurt said, not even caring that he was pouting.

"No comment," Blaine said, sipping his champagne. "Look, Rachel's going over to talk to... I don't know who those people are."

"Where?" Kurt looked around, and sure enough, Rachel was talking to her dads. "Those are her fathers. How did you know that was Rachel?"

"Well, you said she's dating your new step-brother, and I knew he's ten feet tall, so I when I saw a tiny little girl with a huge mouth and Jewish mouth with a giant on the dance floor, I was forced to assume that was Finn and Rachel."

"Astute observation."

"Can we dance now?"

"Sure," Kurt said with a smile.

* * *

><p>"This really is a beautiful wedding," Blaine said softly as they finally got to share their first slow dance. Finn had led Rachel off towards one of the back tables with a wink at Kurt, and the countertenor had jumped at the opportunity to dance with Blaine to one of his personal favorite songs, <em>My Heart Will Go On<em> sung by the wondrous Miss Celine Dion.

"Thank you," Kurt said, smiling. He had been surprised when Blaine had wrapped his arms around Kurt's neck rather than his waist, but he was enjoying being the guy for once.

"I'm assuming the ceremony went well?" Blaine asked. "Your father's lack of eloquence didn't affect the vows too much?"

"He almost made me cry, actually," Kurt admitted. "His vows were wonderful. Odd, and way too much about me, but wonderful."

"Good." They spun in silence for a chorus before Blaine asked, "How did he make you cry?"

"By talking about my mom," he admitted, and Blaine pulled him close, almost hugging him rather than dancing with him, resting his head on the countertenor's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Blaine whispered, his lips almost touching Kurt's neck. Kurt was ridiculously grateful that this song was over four minutes long.

"It's okay. It was a long time ago, and things are... I don't want to say better now, but they're getting there." Blaine smiled, leaning up to press a kiss to Kurt's cheek.

"Good."

Kurt thought over everything Mercedes had said to him, about how close he and Blaine were, and about how shy he was being, and made a bold decision. "Blaine?"

"Yes?" Blaine asked, pulling away just enough to look at his best friend. Kurt was debating between saying something and leaning in to kiss him (a debate he probably should have had before he got Blaine's attention), when his phone buzzed with a red alert from Finn.

"Rachel's headed this way, come on," Kurt grabbed Blaine and ducked off the dance floor, heading for their table and keeping an eye out for the supposed-psychic.

"Utter insanity," Blaine said, but Kurt could tell he was smiling by his tone.

_We'll stay forever this way  
><em>_You are safe in my heart  
><em>_And my heart will go on and on_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And utter insanity is exactly how I imagine the wedding being. This update time wasn't horrible, right? The little bit in there with Lucas is a throw... forward to Meet the Warblers, and Rachel is of course the irritant in this chapter. But I really don't hate her. I promise. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I believe next chapter may be the last! :O That's right. This story is wrapping up, but there will definitely be a lot more Meet the Warblers :)**

**Songs used/mentioned:  
><strong>'_Marry You_' by Bruno Mars  
>'<em>Sway<em>' by Michael Buble  
>'<em>Just the Way You Are<em>' by Bruno Mars  
>'<em>I'll Be<em>' by Edwin McCain (mentioned)  
>'<em>Open Arms<em>' by Journey (mentioned)  
>'<em>My Heart Will Go On<em>' by Celine Dion

**Review are Love. Last chapter soon :)**


	14. Endings and New Beginnings

Kurt was walking on air the day after the wedding. Everything had been perfect and gone off without a hitch. He had gotten the chance to slow dance with Blaine, even if Rachel had prevented him from telling Blaine how he felt in his one moment of boldness, and Finn had miraculously turned into the perfect brother overnight. He hadn't gotten the chance to thank Finn, because Finn and Kurt had driven themselves to their separate homes and the couples' limo had taken them to a hotel in Lima for the night (because their honeymoon had yet to be booked; that was the one detail Kurt took no responsibility for), but he would do so soon.

His day had been going fine as well until last period began. "Kurt," Melissa, a pretty Cheerio who tended to be Coach Sylvester's messenger grabbed him before he could walk into the classroom. "Principal Sylvester needs to see you in her office. Your parents will be here shortly."

"Why am I..." Melissa was already walking away by the time Kurt had started to ask his question, so he headed for Sylvester's office, assuming that Melissa had already alerted his teacher. She had been walking out of the room, after all.

Kurt knocked on the door to Sylvester's office, but her assistant frantically gestured him in, so he decided not to wait for a response. Coach Sylvester was sitting in an arm chair set up opposite of the couch in her office, and Kurt knew this couldn't be good. "What's going on, Coach Sylvester?" he asked.

"Sit down, Porcelain," she said, and she sounded grave. "I'm not supposed to inform you of any official decisions before your parents are here, but you're going to want to hear this for yourself." It was the first sentence Coach Sylvester had ever said to him that didn't contain some kind of insult, and Kurt's heart sunk as he sat on the couch. "Young Simpson has been reinstated to the school." Coach Sylvester continued talking, probably making more jokes about Karofsky or explaining how this had happened, but the blood rushing in Kurt's ears rendered her words useless. Karofsky was coming back. How was this... Kurt put his head in his hands, trying to breathe steadily. "Porcelain!" Coach Sylvester said firmly, taking on the tone she used with Cheerios who had made basic mistakes. "Pull yourself together and stop acting like a whimpering mess. You are a Cheerio and supposedly, but unconfirmed as, a boy. Do you want to be a stereotype or do you wanna man up?" Kurt took some deep breaths.

"How did this happen?" Coach Sylvester gave him a cold look which suggested she had been explaining this while he had been freaking out, but Kurt was feeling so numb he didn't even feel scared.

"Shockingly, none of the spineless cowards at this school spoke up about having watched you get pushed around for the last three years, and the school board said there was nothing they could do without proof. I fought the decision, but I lost only because the superintendent apparently has a mother-in-law." Kurt couldn't smile at Coach's joke. Sylvester was a lot scarier than any mother-in-law he had ever heard of.

His dad didn't even bother to knock. "Why am I here?" he demanded, and Kurt would have been surprised to see Carole there if he wasn't feeling completely numb. He was still adjusting to the fact that legally she was as much his parent as his dad was now. His dad took one look at his face and got angry. "What the hell is going on here?" he asked, sitting next to Kurt and resting a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Mrs. Hummel, please sit down." Kurt went to move over to allow Carole between him and his dad, which seemed like a fitting place for her, but his dad's firm hand stopped him. Carole sat on his other side, and he jumped about a foot when she placed a hand on his leg. "My decision to expel Karofsky has been overturned by the Lima School Board. There is nothing I can do about it." Coach Sylvester sounded disgusted with herself and humanity in general. It was a tone Kurt remembered from Cheerios practices.

"This is absolutely unacceptable," Carole said immediately, and Kurt had never heard her sound angry, but she did now, her face creasing with worry.

"This _psycho_," his dad began, not sounding angry yet, but Kurt knew the news was still sinking in, "threatens my kid's life, and some school board made up of a bunch of people I've never met tells me there's nothing they can do about it?"

"Oh, _they_ could do something about it," Coach Sylvester corrected him, "they've just decided not to. No one reported witnessing him being violent, and there's no way to prove that he threatened you with violence. The school board president issued a verbal warning to Karofsky, and that's where we stand." That verbal warning meant absolutely nothing to anyone.

The news was completely crushing after the wonderful week that had been life without Karofsky. This possibility had never occurred to him. "I can't go back to be terrified all the time," Kurt said before he could stop himself, shaking his head and barely able to feel where Carole was rubbing his leg. "I jump every time a locker slams shut... I-I flinch whenever I turn the corner. I don't feel safe at this school," he said, staring at Coach Sylvester imploringly. He knew there was nothing she could do, but she was the one with the most power in the room, and he needed her help, or reassurances, or _anything_.

"Kids who bully, for the most part, have been bullied themselves," Coach Sylvester said with a sigh. Kurt wondered momentarily who had bullied her. "And I for one don't flatter myself that that behavior can change. Now, this kid Karofsky isn't gonna all of a sudden be nice to you," or be nice to him at all, ever, "and I won't stand by unable to do anything about it." Coach Sylvester never looked truly angry (besides when she was rampaging around the halls), and she didn't look angry now. She just looked determined. "Effective noon tomorrow, Figgins is back in charge," oh, that was comforting, "as I have tendered my resignation as principal in protest. I can't help you behind that desk, but I can be an extra pair of eyes out in those hallways. Someone ought to have your back." Coach Sylvester was much better back up than the boys, no matter how hard they tried. "Besides, I miss my office. This room smells weird. I can't shake the feelings that I'm inhaling a lot of dead skin." That was supposed to be funny, but the circumstances just made it inconsiderate.

"This is it?" Burt demanded angrily. "This is all the school system that's supposed to be protecting my son can do? Say a few words to some idiot that didn't get it when Sam bashed his head it?" Kurt looked at his dad in surprise. Had Finn told him about that?

"Burt, honey, your heart," Carole said, stealing the words right out of Kurt's mouth. "Miss Sylvester, are you absolutely certain there's nothing else that can be done? Some sort of protective measure for volatile students?" Carole's words sounded logical, but Coach was shaking her head.

"He's not bad enough in Lima terms to be sent off to an alternative school, if that's what you mean, and we don't have the resources to have him watched. Frankly, the teachers at this school don't care enough to try." Kurt knew the truth in those words. He had experience it first hand with one of the school's most caring teachers, Mr. Schuester.

"I swear, if this kid lays one hand on my son-" Burt began, but Coach Sylvester cut him off.

"Then I'll be the first to know, and I can get him shipped off, but until he's caught there's nothing more I can do. I'm sorry, Mr. Hummel, Mrs. Hummel, Porcelain." Proving how distracted they both were, neither of them asked or even looked confused at the nickname. Kurt took it for what it was: Coach Sylvester's version of comfort and affection.

"C'mon, kiddo," Burt said, standing up. "You should get back to class." His father and new step-mother watched out of the office with him, Carole taking a moment to thank both Coach Sylvester and her very frightened-looking assistant.

Kurt led his parents to his locker, organizing his books for Glee and not planning to return to last period. His parents waited patiently, and the bell had just rung by the time he turned to say goodbye to them. "Well, I guess I'll try to enjoy the rest of the day before the terror starts anew," he said, resigned, as students began to swarm around them, several Cheerios moving a trophy from the principal's office to Coach Sylvester's old office. "I'll see you at home," he walked between them, not able to fight the flood on either side, and Carole squeezed his arm as he walked by. He was only a little ways down the hallway when his father's voice stopped him.

"Hey, Kurt." He turned to face his father. "Wait up a second. There's something we want to talk to you about." Kurt obediently walked back over to them, only for them to turn and head back to Coach Sylvester's office.

"Coach Sylvester, we need somewhere to talk to my son," Burt said coldly, barging into the ex-principal's office despite frantic protests from her assistant. Surprisingly, Coach relented without an argument, leaving the three alone in her office. "Kurt, this can't happen."

"Dad, there's nothing else to do," Kurt said, wondering what his dad was thinking.

"What your father means is, we don't want you at this school, Kurt," Carole said gently. "We don't want you to spend the rest of your high school terrified to be yourself because of a bully the school system is unwilling to restrain."

"And we're not going to let you stay here. We have mutually decided," his father wrapped an arm around Carole, "that we want to send you to Dalton Academy." Kurt sighed.

"Dad, you told me yourself that we can't afford that." Yes, this idea of going to Dalton would be a dream come true at this point, with Karofsky once again a factor, but it was impossible.

"Perhaps not on our normal income, especially with us having made a bid on a new house," this was news, but it wasn't important at the moment, "but we do have some savings." It took Kurt a minute, but he suddenly knew exactly what savings his father was talking about.

"Dad, I couldn't ask you to-"

"You didn't ask," Burt said firmly.

"We're offering," Carole added.

"I couldn't let you-"

"We're not offering," Burt corrected. "We're your parents, and we want what's best for you. We're telling you that this is the way it's going to be. If it means Carole and I can't take a honeymoon right away, so be it. Your safety is far more important." Kurt didn't particularly appreciate the sudden parental authority, but he was choking up a little at the sentiment.

"D-Dad..." he said hesitantly. "There has to be another way. I could go to Lima Vo-Tech..."

"That's not far enough away," his dad said, shaking his head as Kurt tried to hold back tears. "That psychopath would still be close enough to harass you, and I can't have that."

"I suppose we can talk about it for next semester," Kurt said, thinking he could survive the next month or so, but Burt was shaking his head again.

"That's not good enough."

"I can help with that," Coach Sylvester said from the door. Kurt had seen her eavesdropping, but he figured she probably had cameras in her offices anyway, so what was the harm in letting her see it first hand? "I doubt the Catholic administration of any school in _Columbus_ has the chops to deal with a six-time National Championship cheerleading coach with a slight to solve." Coach Sylvester stormed into the office, opening her computer. "I'll start the process, you two should probably get your finances in order, and isn't there practice for the big gay musical right about now?" Carole looked confused, but Kurt knew what Coach meant.

"She's right," Kurt said. "I should go to Glee club, you two should go home." Carole and Burt didn't argue, Carole kissing his forehead as they walked out, and they began to talk as soon as Kurt was out of earshot.

"Get out of my office," Coach Sylvester said as he turned to say something to her, dialing a number on the phone. "I have religious sycophants to attend to and you have Glee clubbers to reduce to sniveling, useless inadequacies. Shoo." Her tone brooked no argument, and Kurt prepared himself for what had to happen next. He had to tell the Glee club he was leaving.

Kurt could hear Mr. Schuester's booming voice halfway done the mostly empty hallway. "...Sectionals next week," he finished his sentence as Kurt walked in the room, braced for one of the most poignant goodbyes of his life. "Kurt, good, I want to talk to you about this _amazing_ idea I had for a _solo_ for you at Sectionals." Of course, the moment he decided to leave. Kurt tried to convince himself it wouldn't have worked out anyway to strengthen his resolve.

"Can I make an announcement first?"

"Yeah," Mr. Schuester said, gesturing to the club. The choir director probably thought he wanted to say something about the wedding, since it was highly improbable that he had picked up on Kurt's mood. He probably should say something about the wedding. He hadn't talked to any of them yet.

"First, I wanted to thank everyone for what you did at my dad's wedding, especially Finn." Rachel looked ridiculously proud of Finn, as if his speech had been her doing. He would even miss how self-centered she was. "It's nice to know that I have great friends here, as well as a true brother..." Finn smiled at him, "which is why it's so hard for me to leave." The surprise hit everyone at the same moment, they all looked confused.

"What do you mean 'leave'?" Quinn was the first to speak up, half-in Sam's lap. Kurt was glad to see that they had worked out after all. Quinn had issues trusting men, but clearly Sam had managed to get through to her. They made a good couple.

"I'm transferring to Dalton Academy... immediately." Kurt's throat closed up. "My parents are using the money they saved up for their honeymoon to pay for the tuition." That probably wasn't something eh needed to tell the Glee club, but it only emphasized how awful he was feeling, and the next thing said only made it worse.

"Kurt, you can't leave," Tina said, as if there were no question of his safety involved.

"What the hell, dude?" Finn asked, standing up and sounding unreasonably angry. "How about you talk with me about this first?" he asked, approaching Kurt, but the countertenor didn't have the energy to care that Finn was hurt he had been left out of the family's decision. There was no choice.

"I'm sorry, Finn, but there's nothing to talk about. Karofsky's coming back tomorrow, so that means I won't be."

"We can protect you," Sam said automatically, focusing more on the club's joint objective than the reason he was leaving. That was a little self-centered, but understandable.

"Seriously, we can, like... form a perimeter around you, like the Secret Service."

"Yeah," Finn said in support, but Kurt knew that promise would never be good enough for his dad, and they couldn't be around him all the time. He would never be safe at McKinley.

"The only thing that can really protect me is what they have at Dalton: a zero tolerance, no-bullying policy. It's enforced." He looked to Mr. Schue as the only one who was being logical right now, and the teacher nodded. Kurt chose not to make his words an accusation, because even though Mr. Schue hadn't done the greatest job of protecting him, he really was the best and most caring teacher at the school.

"Um, does this mean that you're gonna be competing _against_ us at Sectionals?" Rachel asked, and okay, maybe Kurt wouldn't miss _that_ level of self-centered-ness. Still, this thought had only occurred to Rachel. Even Kurt hadn't thought about it yet.

Kurt turned to look at the only person who didn't seem to be reacting, the person he had expected the greatest reaction from. "Kurt..." Mercedes said, seeming at a loss for words as she stood up, gesturing helplessly. Kurt just shook his head, having nothing to say to her.

"I'm sorry," he choked out as he started to back out of the room. "I have to go." He turned around and left, unable to face the group he considered his family as he abandoned them.

* * *

><p>Carole was cooking dinner when he arrived back home, and neither her nor his dad asked why he hadn't stayed for Glee club. They probably didn't need to. His dad patted the spot on the couch next to him, and Kurt curled up next to his dad, not even caring that he was acting childish and being clingy. He needed his dad, and Burt knew that. Kurt chuckled dryly as his dad turned on America's Next Top Model, knowing exactly what he needed, but that quickly turned into choked sobs, and his dad wrapped an arm around him, not saying anything as he let all of his emotions out. Carole left after she had finished making them dinner, going home to a probably very upset Finn, and they ate dinner just the two of them in front of the TV, like they had when Kurt was in middle school and people had spent the day harassing him. He had never told his dad how bad things really were up until this point, but he got the feeling that his dad had always known.<p>

Coach Sylvester called the house a little later to confirm that she had started the application, and while Kurt couldn't attend Dalton the next day, the day after was definitely a possibility. They didn't allow mid-term transfers except in extreme circumstances. When Coach Sylvester had asked for the definition of 'extreme circumstances', they had told her a story that made it clear to Kurt that Blaine had been the last mid-term transfer, two years ago. However, Coach Sylvester had managed to convince them that these were extreme circumstances (Blaine's parents had bribed the school, Kurt didn't ask how Coach Sylvester had done so), and they could get everything sorted out the next day.

The main question that hung over the family's head was if Kurt would be a part of the Warblers, or so Coach Sylvester informed him. Kurt could get a considerable scholarship if he was a part of the Warblers, maybe enough for his dad to salvage his honeymoon. Burt told Kurt that he didn't have to make the decision right then, but Kurt knew it would be the best for everyone. Plus, he loved performing, and the New Directions would get over it eventually.

Dalton had his transcript, and it wasn't entirely certain at that point if he would be accepted, but with Kurt's extra-curricular activities (show choir was big there) and his excellent grades it probably wouldn't be a problem. Commuting versus boarding was also a big decision, but Burt said without even consulting his son that Kurt would be commuting. Not only was it cheaper (finances weren't a major issue at that point, but Burt and Carole still needed time to get everything in order), there wasn't much left of the semester anyway, and the decision could always be changed after Christmas.

* * *

><p>The next day was the loneliest Kurt had ever been. He had managed to convince his father to go to work, but it wasn't an easy battle. Burt wanted to stay and help in case anything else with the admissions process happened, but all Kurt was expecting was a phone interview with the Dean of Admissions, and that was something his father couldn't help him with. Burt had sent off all of the financial pieces that morning, doing his best to assuage Kurt's guilt as he did so, and they would receive a refund when Kurt joined the Warblers for a musical scholarship. Kurt had been surprised to learn that he would also receive an academic scholarship based on his grades at the end of the semester (which was Dalton's version of a need-based scholarship, offering academic scholarships to students on the lower end of the economic spectrum), but it certainly put the pressure on.<p>

Rachel had been texting him frantically all day, but Kurt had a feeling the message of all of those text messages was the same ('don't join the Warblers!'), so he did his best to delete them without opening them. About a thousand times that awful, lonely day during which Kurt sat home and wondered if he should never have said anything about Karofsky's escalation and watched the entire second season of Project Runway, Kurt considered texting or calling Blaine to tell him that he was transferring, but he wasn't sure he was ready to repeat the reason why he had to. Although Blaine would never push Kurt to tell him, Kurt decided just to let it be. The surprise on Blaine's face when he saw Kurt on his first day would be worth how awful he was feeling.

Kurt had just finished lunch when the Dean of Admissions called him. He was surprised when the woman first quickly asked about what had been happening at his school that he was requesting a mid-term transfer, but she had been perfectly pleasant, and it was the first indicator of how different life at Dalton was going to be for him. The phone interview had gone well after that, the woman appreciating his sense of humor and being very impressed with his list of extra-curricular activities (not many people were both football payers _and_ cheerleaders, after all). Kurt felt confident enough after the woman hung up on him to call Mercedes, which was a mistake.

It was the first time in their entire friendship that she hadn't answered the phone when he called. She had answered at all hours of the morning and no matter what she was doing. The fact that she was consciously ignoring his call was the worst feeling in the world. The New Directions viewed him as a traitor, and Kurt wasn't sure that he could handle that. Transferring to Dalton was enough of an adjustment, he wasn't sure how he would be able to cope without his motley collection of best friends.

* * *

><p>Carole and Finn elected to join him and his father on their first early morning trip to Dalton, although Kurt wasn't sure Finn had been given a choice. His father had insisted on dropping him off for his first morning, even though it was four hours of unnecessary driving for his dad. Burt sighed when he parked Kurt's navigator in the school parking lot. Kurt needed his car, so Carole and Finn had actually driven the two hours in Carole's car behind them, and they were really just there to say goodbye.<p>

"Good luck, kiddo," his dad said, giving him a quick hug. Carole was looking a little teary, and Finn just looked annoyed.

"Thanks, Dad," was all Kurt managed to say in reply before Carole squeezed the breath out of him.

"Have a good first day," she said, the stereotypical mom line.

"Carole, I'm not going to kindergarten," Kurt said with a smile, fighting back tears. This was possibly the hardest thing he had ever done.

"Bye, dude," Finn said coldly. Kurt didn't even try to get a hug out of his step-brother.

"Finn," he said, and it was amazing to him that Finn even acknowledged him. "I _am_ sorry. Please know that." Finn didn't say anything, and their parents chose not to comment on their exchange, the three piling into Carole's car, his step-mother giving him one last breath. The countertenor took some deep breaths as he watched the car drive away, took a deep breath, and turned to face his new home. Kurt stared up at the intimidating doors of Dalton Academy.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And that is the end! I know this was considerably fast (go me!), but this ending isn't very long. I just needed to wrap up the last few minutes of Furt, get through the admissions process, and get Kurt to the point at which Meet the Warblers starts :) I hope you all enjoyed this story.**

**Reviews are Love.**


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